


Create the Light

by Mayalaen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Burns, Canon-Typical Violence, Curtain Fic, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Future Fic, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Physical Therapy, disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:50:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayalaen/pseuds/Mayalaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Darkness was released, swept over the Earth, and drifted off into the blackness of space, taking everything supernatural about the world with it.  Dean and Cas are married, settled down, living a quiet and normal life in the same city as Sam, his wife, and two kids.  Dean couldn't have asked for a better life.  Until it all comes crashing down around them.  Was it all a lie?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Create the Light

**Author's Note:**

> All the beautiful artwork you see was created by my wonderful artist, [Octopusbox](http://octopusbox.tumblr.com/) aka [MallayDraws](http://mallaydraws.tumblr.com/)! This fic was written for the DCBB 2015, and Octopusbox was a pinch-hitter for me, so she knocked these out in record time and saved me from posting this without artwork!
> 
> My beta on this fic, Kim, was a huge help! She was a cheerleader, let me bounce ideas off her, and gave me tons of advice for this as well as reading it over and checking for mistakes. Thank you!

"Hey, Cas, I'm...," Dean started as he walked in the front door, then he shut his mouth when he realized Cas was conked out on the couch.

Dean sighed, coming to a stop in the middle of the living room. He missed spending time with Cas, but Cas had been staying at the university later and later every night. Cas' fingers twitched in his sleep, his socks and shoes forgotten on the floor, and his tie was shoved halfway under the couch, his jacket draped over the arm of the couch only because Cas didn't like to iron. He still had his slacks and undershirt on, and his neck was at an odd angle.

After shaking his head, a sad smile on his face, Dean walked into the kitchen and started to quietly clean up. It was obvious Cas hadn't made anything for dinner, must've brought a sandwich home because there was a plate with sesame seeds all over it.

Cas hated sesame seeds, but he loved sesame seed bread, which meant lots of seeds left over whenever Cas came home with his favorite sandwich from the deli a block away from the university.

Dean washed up the few plates and cups that were in the sink, then left them to dry on the rack before he headed to bed. His shirt had a few holes in it because a patient at the hospital had gotten a little too freaked out by the series of shots needed to combat the possible rabies from the dog she'd encountered. There was no blood on his shirt, but it still wasn't presentable anymore.

He sighed as he pulled the shirt off. He'd need to stop at the store and pick up another package or two of light blue T-shirts. He ran out of them quickly. Most people didn't think twice about yanking and scratching when they were upset over injuries. It was part of the job, though, and Dean liked his job.

Dean smirked as he thought about the many times he'd sewn Sam up. Even when the kid was only a teenager, he was able to control himself better than a lot of the adults he helped hold down on a daily basis in the emergency room.

His phone vibrated, and when Dean checked it, there was a message from Sam, inviting them to dinner the next Sunday. Dean wanted to see Sam, wanted to see the kids, but it was hard to sit at the table and act like nothing was wrong. Sam was going to realize something was up, most likely sooner rather than later.

*

Cas was gone before Dean even had his first cup of coffee the next morning. He'd left his dirty clothes in the bathroom, so Dean picked them up and threw them in the hamper.

Cas had been a human for about nine years, but he still struggled with some of the day-to-day stuff. Not that he didn't care. Rather he just didn't think of those things. Humans grew up learning to take care of all the tedious shit on a daily basis, but for Cas, everything was new.

Dean nuked a frozen breakfast sandwich in the microwave, then headed out the door with his last good blue shirt and his travel mug full of hot coffee. The breakfast sandwiches were usually rubbery, but they filled his stomach and gave him the energy he needed to deal with patients.

"Morning," Dean said as he walked through the ER.

"Hey," Rachel said, waving and giving him a flirtatious smile, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Where am I headed, Rach?" Dean asked, ignoring her over-the-top attempts to catch his eye. She did it on a daily basis even though she knew he was married. To a man, no less.

"Station three," Rachel said, not backing down a bit. She never did. "Needs a cleanup."

Dean nodded, then headed for the break room, setting his stuff down and finishing off his coffee before gearing up and cleaning the gore he found in station three. He knew too much to just be an orderly, but he didn't have any degrees. Documents were easy enough to find, allowing him to walk into the ER years ago, where they practically handed him the job.

"Hey, kiddo," Dean said as he walked through the curtain.

"Are you a doctor?" the little boy on the gurney asked, eyes wide and red-rimmed, clinging to his mom, who looked slightly frazzled, but not all that worried. The boy looked to be only around four or five, the deep cut on his chin sluggishly bleeding.

"Nope, I'm not a doctor," Dean said, smiling at both the boy and his mom. "See this right here?" he said as he pointed to his name tag.

"Uh-huh," the boy said, nodding, his dark black hair falling into his eyes.

"Those two letters there, NP," he said, pointing them out, "mean that I didn't have to go to school as long as a doctor. I got let out early because I was too awesome. So now I get to do a lot of the cool stuff doctors do, but I don't get as much money as they do."

The boy frowned. "If you can do a bunch of stuff, why won't they give you more money?" The expression on his face was so much like his mother's that Dean's chest ached a bit. The family resemblance was striking.

Dean opened a drawer and pulled out some gauze, antiseptic, skin glue, and some paper tape. "Because I have more fun than they do," Dean said. "Did you ever notice how doctors sometimes look grumpy?"

"Yeah!" the boy said, eyes wide. "My doctor has lines right here," he said, scowling and pointing at his own forehead.

Dean grinned. "They're grumpy because they have to work all day long and sometimes at night too," Dean said as he set the supplies on the gurney and grabbed some gloves. "I work during the day, having fun with kids like you, and then I get to go home at night and watch movies and eat popcorn."

"Your job sounds like more fun," the boy said.

"It is," Dean said, nodding. "I like helping people. I like fixing owies."

"I hurt my chin," the boy said, pointing at his bloody face.

"I see that," Dean said. "Well, I can help you out with that. You ready?"

"Do I have'ta get a shot?" the boy asked, leaning toward his mother just a little more.

"Did you fall on something icky?" Dean asked, glancing at the mother.

The mother ran her fingers through the boy's hair. "The corner of our kitchen table. He was goofing around."

Dean chuckled. "I've done that. See right here?" he asked as he pointed toward a tiny scar on his chin. "I was about your age when I did the same thing." It was a lie, but the boy's eyes lit up and he giggled. The kid didn't need to know what sort of creature gave Dean that scar.

"So I don't need a shot?" he asked.

"Nope," Dean said. "I'm just gonna clean it up with this wipe, and then I'm going to put some stuff on there that's kinda like clear jelly. It'll cover over the owie so your body can have some time to heal all by itself."

"Mom said I need stretches," the boy said, frowning.

"Stitches, honey," the mom said.

"Stitches," the boy said to Dean.

"Well, Mom didn't know I have this really cool jelly stuff," he said, holding up the tube. "Cool, huh?"

"Yeah!" the boy said, smiling and relieved now that shots and stitches weren't in his future.

"All right, I need you to hold real still for me," Dean said. "If it hurts, just kick me in the leg and I'll be more careful, okay?"

"No!" Mom said. "Don't kick the doctor, sweetie."

"He's not a doctor," the boy said, pointing at Dean's name tag.

"It's okay," Dean said, winking at the mom. "I tell everybody to kick me if I hurt them. It's only fair, right?"

"Oh," the mom said, lips stuck in that O shape for a moment. "Well, okay."

"But don't kick me unless I hurt you," Dean warned. "If you kick me just because you want to, then I won't know when you really mean it."

"I won't, I promise," the boy said.

"Okay, ready?" Dean asked.

"Uh-huh," the boy said, tilting his head back.

*

It was a long day. Whenever kids came in, Dean was the first one they'd call over to help. He was great with them, and kids responded to him, liked him. But it also meant Dean had to watch when kids cried, when they couldn't understand why something was happening to them, and sometimes when there was nothing else he could do but hold them and help the family say goodbye.

Dean tossed his last shirt into the haz-mat bin, taking a cleansing breath as he walked into the break room, pulling on a scrub shirt. It was scratchy and uncomfortable, but Dean couldn't walk around with that little girl's blood on him any longer.

"You okay, Winchester?" someone asked.

Dean looked up from his seat at the table. "Yeah," he said to the intern. He couldn't remember the guy's name. The intern had been there for almost a month, yet Dean just couldn't remember his name.

"Was it a kid?" Intern asked.

Dean grimaced. "Yeah. It happens."

"Sorry," Intern said, then gave him a pat on the shoulder on the way out.

Dean picked at his microwaved burrito, but didn't really eat much of it. He ended up throwing most of it out before going back to the emergency room. Minutes later he was covered in vomit.

*

Dean had picked up sandwiches from the shop that Cas loved. A ham and swiss on a sesame seed bun with extra pickles and mayo for Cas and a roast beef for himself. Cas' car wasn't in the driveway and the lights were off, so Dean ate his sandwich in front of the television and left Cas' sandwich on the table.

He woke up in the middle of the night when Cas climbed into bed, but instead of wrapping his arms around Cas and falling asleep in a tangled mess with the love of his life, he pretended to be asleep.

Dean stayed awake for a while, listening to the sounds of Cas sleeping. It was still hard to wrap his head around the fact that Cas was human even though it had been years. For the first year or two, Dean would lie awake at night and watch Cas' chest moving up and down, the small breaths of someone deeply asleep. It comforted him, and it also lulled him to sleep.

Soon enough, the sounds had him out like a light. It was always easier to sleep when Cas was with him. No matter what was happening to their relationship.

*

"The salad is delicious," Cas said, smiling as he poked at the cranberries and feta cheese on top of spring greens.

"Thanks," Becca said, then nodded to Sam. "He loves when I add cranberries to my salads."

"I don't like the white stuff," Bobby said with a frown as he picked each piece of cheese off his plate and set it on the napkin by his mom's left hand.

Dean chuckled, still amazed that Bobby looked nothing like Becca or Sam. Instead he looked so much like Becca's brother Zach that Dean still teased Sam about it even though the kid was seven.

"Just leave it on the napkin, sweetie," Becca said.

"I like deez," Jenna said, mouth full of cranberries and scowling, the expression on her face so much like Sam's at that age Dean's breath caught in his chest. Even at two and a half years old, she appeared to be the perfect mix of both her mom and dad, and Dean could see some of the best parts of both of them in her.

"That looks like blood," Bobby said, pointing at the cranberry juice dripping from Jenna's chin.

"Wipe your face, kid," Sam said, smiling as he handed his daughter a napkin.

It was all so domestic that Dean sometimes felt like his head was spinning. They'd spent so much of their lives on the road, in danger, trying to stop or at least delay the end of the world that even nine years after all of it stopped, as if someone pulled the plug on everything supernatural, he still couldn't believe it sometimes, still couldn't completely settle down into this life.

Not that he hated it. It was a world where people still faced disease, natural disasters, and other humans, but nothing supernatural existed anymore. Including Castiel's grace. It had all disappeared after The Darkness swept over the Earth, taking everything unnatural with it and floating off into space.

It had been anticlimactic after everything they'd been through, and Dean was happy that all those things most people never knew were out there, well, now they really weren't out there anymore. It was hard to get used to even if Dean liked the benefits, such as Sam having that life he'd wanted for so long.

"Uncle Dean?" Bobby said, dark brown eyes so different from Sam and Becca's.

"Yeah?"

"Will you help me with my school project?" Bobby asked, using the one thing he did inherit from Sam: the Puppy Eyes of Doom. It had nothing to do with color and everything to do with a charming personality.

"Sure," Dean said. "After dinner we'll get to it."

"I have papers to grade," Cas said, turning to Dean with a concerned look on his face.

Dean looked to Bobby, then back at Cas. "Can't it wait?"

"It's going to take me hours," Cas said. "I have an early class, so I can't be up all night."

"I'll take you home," Sam said to Dean. "Cas can take the car home and start on his papers."

Dean gave Sam a smile. "Thanks, Sammy," he said.

Cas nodded. "Thank you, Sam."

"So what's your school project?" Dean asked.

Bobby took in a big lungful of air, ready to explain the whole thing. Dean couldn't have loved his niece and nephew more than he already did, and he was excited to help the kid with his project.

*

They'd worked on the guy for three hours, but they'd still lost him. Dean was used to death. He'd experienced enough of it over the years, but what he wasn't used to was dealing with the family left behind, the people mourning. That was something new to him.

Of course he'd seen some of it when creatures had taken someone and he hadn't been able to save them years ago, but most of the time Dean didn't even stick around for notifying the family. He couldn't. Too busy running from the authorities, who would've thrown his ass in jail for saving people.

The emergency room was different. He loved his job. It made him feel as if he was still hunting things and saving people, even if the hunting was helping to find out what was wrong with someone. But when he had to notify a woman and her children that their husband and father wouldn't be going home with them ever again, it was hard.

He changed at the hospital, showering the gore from his skin and getting into jeans and a clean T-shirt. As he drove home, the scene played over and over in his head.

When he was hunting, he pushed all thoughts of 'what if' out of his mind. If he would have let himself dwell on how he could have done things differently, he never would have been able to survive. It was one of the things his dad had taught him. It wasn't callousness. It was moving on so other people could be saved when there was nothing else he could do for the victims. Otherwise, that lifestyle would eat a person alive.

But it was harder to do that when the families stood there crying and asking him why. Why did Daddy have to die? Why couldn't he just fix Daddy? It was heartbreaking, and sometimes he let it get to him.

He pulled into the driveway, sighing when he saw Cas' car. He wanted to hold someone. Someone alive and familiar. When he walked into their home, he saw the light on in the bedroom, so he headed there, stripping once he got into their room.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said.

"Oh, hi," Cas said, looking up from his papers as he sat against the headboard of the bed.

Cas had started wearing glasses about two years after he became human. Dean thought it was really sexy, especially when they fell to the end of his nose while he was concentrating. Cas was clueless as to why Dean thought they were hot.

Dean climbed into bed in his boxers, then wrapped his left arm around Cas' middle, resting his head on Cas' lap. He didn't say anything, and when Cas' free hand came to rest on his head, everything felt right in the world. Cas gently scrubbed at his scalp while he finished reading his papers, and soon Dean was asleep.

*

Dean hadn't seen Cas in three days. He knew Cas had been home because of the clothes on the bathroom floor, the dirty dishes in the sink, and the clean laundry folded on the dresser, but they'd missed each other, so Dean stopped by the sandwich shop and picked up Cas' favorite, then headed for the university.

He walked across campus with the bag of sandwiches in one hand and a couple of cans of soda in the other. He walked down the hallways and found Cas' office, but froze just outside the door.

"Thanks for the extra credit, Mr. Winchester," a really fucking hot chick said as she got up in Cas' personal space. She was blonde, perky, and wearing barely enough clothing to be considered acceptable for campus rules.

Dean's eyes widened as Cas didn't push her away, didn't stiffen like he normally did when anyone but Dean touched him. Instead he let her put a hand on his left forearm, a flirtatious touch that could get Cas in trouble with the university.

"You earned it, Chelsea," Cas said with a nod.

Dean had the perfect vantage point to see Cas' profile. He could see the way Cas was smiling at her. It was a smile that said he was comfortable with her, that she had done a good job, and that he was proud of her. It was a look Dean hadn't been on the receiving end of in a long time. A look that he thought Cas had reserved only for people with the last name of Winchester.

"So can we meet up at the library again this week?" Chelsea asked, shoving her breasts forward. "I've got this really hard paper I need to write for Professor Collier, and even though it's not your specialty, I just know you could help me with it."

Cas smiled. "I could meet you Tuesday after class."

Chelsea giggled. "Thank you, Mr. Winchester," she said, leaning closer. "You have no idea how much trouble I'd be in if you hadn't helped me. You make learning so much fun."

She was laying it on so thick that Dean almost gagged. That was _his_ husband she was touching. That was _his_ husband she was flirting with. That was _his_ husband she was probably fucking.

Dean turned and walked away. He'd imagined scenarios like that in the past with other lovers, but never with Cas. He never dreamed Cas had it in him. But in the past, when Dean had let his imagination run wild with Lisa or Cassie, he'd always seen himself as devastated, as if his world had come to an end, and he thought he'd feel a deep sense of betrayal.

He didn't feel that way. And he knew why. He and Cas had been drifting apart for months now. He hadn't noticed it at first, but just a month ago it became something obvious. They were living as separately as two people who lived under the same roof could.

It hurt. It hurt really fucking badly. But seeing Cas and Chelsea wasn't the surprise Dean had thought it would be. He knew the blame wasn't all on Cas. He'd pushed Cas away too.

The apple pie life was hard for Dean to sink into. He loved his job, and it gave him a purpose, a chance to use all the skills he'd acquired patching up his family and fellow hunters after they'd been injured. Dean knew what he was doing at the hospital, was confident in his abilities to not only perform well, but to make people feel good about the care they'd received.

Everything outside the hospital was a different story. It was a struggle, and Dean felt as if he was out of his element, like he wasn't doing normal right. That kind of life wasn't something he had experienced since he was four years old, and he was a completely different person than that little boy who had a mom to tuck him in at night.

It was hard trying to smash himself into the mold of happiness, contentment, a lack of danger, neighbors who invited them to barbecues, and nothing looming in the distance. Nothing to keep his mind off the fact that he didn't know how to live the normal life.

Dean knew he was fucked in the head. Any normal person would have been wrapping his life around themselves like it was made of pure gold. But it was smothering him, and even though Cas wasn't part of what was weighing him down, he'd taken it out on Cas by becoming cold and distant.

Sure, they'd been in love. They'd gotten married after everything was over, when they knew they could settle down, when they'd realized just how much they meant to each other, when Sam had hit them both over the head with a figurative two-by-four and said they were the only ones who couldn't see how in love they were, that they needed to take that leap into marriage.

And even though Dean still loved Cas, loved him so much it hurt, he didn't feel like he was _in_ love with him anymore.

Cas didn't deserve that. He'd done so much for the world. He'd given up so much. To love Dean was a waste of his time and his devotion.

Dean drove to the beach and ate both sandwiches on the hood of the car. When the stars came out and the chill of night made him shiver, he realized he'd come to a decision. They couldn't live like this anymore.

It wasn't fair to either one of them. They weren't in love anymore. He knew Cas loved him, and he loved Cas, so Dean knew how he had to approach this. He had to end it. Anything else left room open for Cas to insist they were still in love when they really weren't.

The easiest thing was to rip off the band-aid and tell him they were getting a divorce. No blaming. No fights or talks about working it out. They needed to move on.

*

Dean left a note on the kitchen table, letting Cas know that they needed to talk, that even if Dean was asleep, to wake him up. That it was important. He didn't end up falling asleep, and sometime around three in the morning Cas finally got home.

"Dean?" Cas said from the doorway.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said as he sat up, throwing the covers off and scooting back until he was resting against the headboard.

"Is something wrong?" Cas asked, a hint of concern in his tone of voice, in the set of his mouth.

"Have a seat," Dean said, patting Cas' side of the bed.

Cas didn't bother kicking his shoes off or taking his jacket off. He crawled onto the bed and sat down right where Dean had told him to. He looked tired and his suit jacket was wrinkled.

"We need to talk," Dean said.

"Okay," Cas said with a nod.

Dean had expected it to be hard. He had known it would hurt. But the heaviness, the way his chest ached just looking at the man in front of him, well, that was unexpected. He'd fallen in love with Cas, he'd do anything for him, and to realize that they'd failed, that they hadn't loved each other enough to make it work was tearing him apart. He thought he'd worked it all out in his head while sitting on the hood of his car.

"Things have been a little strange for a while now," Dean said, and then held up a hand when Cas opened his mouth, ready to ask what was strange. Cas closed his mouth again. "Us," Dean said gently. "This just isn't working. We've grown apart, and we need to quit before we end up hating each other."

Cas physically flinched as the words filtered through his head. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but then just tilted his head, his eyes welling up with tears.

It hurt so fucking much to know that he was doing this to Cas. He wanted to hold him, to tell him it was a stupid joke, that everything was fine. But it wasn't fine. It hadn't been for a while. Whether Cas was fucking Chelsea or not, Cas had been clueless to what was happening between them.

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean said. "I care about you. I really do. But I'm just not in love with you anymore."

Cas' breath hitched and a tear ran down his left cheek. "Why?" he asked, voice cracking.

"C'mon, Cas," Dean said, letting out a huff. "You didn't notice anything was wrong? You didn't notice that we never do anything together? We barely even see each other? Can you even remember the last time we had sex? How long it's been?"

"I've been busy," Cas said softly.

"I know," Dean said, then gave Cas a little smile. "I don't think either one of us is to blame for this. It just happened. You deserve to be with someone who shares your interests. Someone you want to spend time with."

"I want to spend time with you," Cas whispered.

"Actions speak louder than words," Dean said. "And I think it's obvious neither one of us makes time for the other."

"Do you want me to leave?" Cas asked as if it was torture just to say the words.

The ache in Dean's chest got so much worse that he winced. "No," he said, shaking his head. "You can keep the house. I'll find an apartment near the hospital."

"You're leaving right now?" Cas asked, eyes widening, his body leaning closer to Dean ever so slightly, as if he wanted to grab onto him in case Dean was planning on running away.

"No, I'll sleep on the couch tonight," Dean said. "I'll start looking for a place tomorrow."

"Okay," Cas said, looking down at the blanket he was clutching hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean said, but Cas didn't look up at him, so he climbed off the bed, taking his pillow with him.

He didn't sleep much, and around six in the morning he walked down the hallway to check on Cas, staring at him for a moment. Cas had fallen asleep in his clothes, arms wrapped around his pillow in an odd position, shoes still on his feet. Dean grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the hospital. He could use the showers and change there.

*

Dean's phone was blinking when he grabbed it from his locker later that day. He expected something from Cas, maybe more apologies or questions, but it was from Sam. Just a quick 'call me' message.

"Dean?" Sam answered.

"Hey," Dean said, wondering if Cas had called Sam.

"Hey, you guys wanna come over for dinner this Saturday night?" Sam asked. "Becca's been bugging me to teach her how to cook Cas' favorite dish, so she wants to try that out."

"Uhm, no," Dean said.

"No?" Sam said, confused tone to his voice. Dean and Cas never turned down an invitation for Becca or Sam's cooking. "You guys busy?"

"Well, I can come," Dean said. "But Cas won't be coming."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

Dean didn't know what to say. His mouth felt dry, and it was as if someone had ripped all the words right out of his head.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked when Dean hesitated.

Dean rubbed his free hand over the back of his neck. "Me and Cas are done. I'm looking for an apartment after I get off work this afternoon."

Sam was quiet for a moment. "What?!" he asked, shocked. "What happened?"

"I'm standing in the middle of the locker room," Dean said, feeling drained and raw. "I'll call you later tonight."

"You can stay with us for a while," Sam said. "Just crash on our couch until you work things out."

"I'll talk to you later, Sam," Dean said, then hung up on his brother. He didn't feel like explaining to Sam that this wasn't something they could work out. That it was over.

*

He hadn't been able to find an apartment. He had the money, he had the good credit, but there just wasn't anything available near the hospital. And he was tired. So he headed back to the house. Cas' car wasn't in the driveway, and Dean let out a sigh of relief.

Dean grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down on the couch, not really watching TV, but he just needed something to blindly stare at. His phone vibrated, and again he expected a text from Cas.

_Sam: He's here. Gonna spend the night. You okay?_

Dean felt something in his chest let go. He'd been worried about Cas, but now that he knew Cas was with Sam and Becca, he wasn't as concerned.

_Dean: Thanks. I'm fine._

_Sam: Any time you wanna talk, call or text me. I can meet you somewhere or come over to the house. Any time._

_Dean: G'night._

_Sam: Night._

Dean stretched out on the couch, setting the beer down on the coffee table. He hadn't finished it, but his stomach was hurting, so he just flipped through the channels until he found something boring enough to fall asleep to.

*

Dean groaned as he opened his eyes, his phone ringing somewhere near his head. He grabbed it and swiped to answer the call.

"Hello?" Dean said, voice deep and scratchy with sleep.

"You comin' in today?"

Dean frowned, then sat up so quickly he made himself dizzy. "Shit, I'm sorry," he said. "I overslept. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Whoa," Dr. Jessup said. "Calm down and don't get yourself into an accident on the way here. You've never been late before. This is just a courtesy call because Ray's asking where you are."

Dean hadn't realized until then that it was odd one of the doctors was calling him instead of the staff coordinator, Ray. "Oh, okay. Thanks. I really am sorry."

"It's okay," Dr. Jessup said with a chuckle. "I recognized the look on your face over the last few days. Had it myself a few years back when Mrs. Jessup decided she'd much rather be with her old high school sweetheart than me. I already covered for you. If Ray asks, you were picking up my dry cleaning."

"Oh," Dean said, eyes widening. Had he really looked that bad? "Thank you."

"No problem," Dr. Jessup said. "See you in a few minutes."

Dr. Jessup hung up, and Dean pushed himself off the couch. He felt silly for having worn his heart on his sleeve for the past few days. Dr. Jessup and he worked closely together, so it wasn't a stretch that the very observant and friendly doctor had noticed he was hurting, but it was still shocking to know that others could see it.

Within just ten minutes Dean was dressed in clean clothes and heading out the door. He stopped by the coffee shop across the street from the hospital, getting both himself and Dr. Jessup coffees, making sure to get Dr. Jessup's just the way he liked it as a thank you.

*

Dean hadn't expected Cas to know what to do about the divorce. He didn't even know himself really. He'd asked Sam, and surprisingly enough Sam hadn't fought him on it, hadn't drawn things out or claimed it would take weeks to get the papers. 

So Dean sat on the couch in his living room, the one he'd shared with Cas for seven years, in the house he'd lived in with his husband. The papers were sitting on the coffee table. He'd already filled out most of what he could, but he needed Cas for the rest of it. Then they both needed to sign them.

Cas finally walked in the door a half hour later. "Sorry I'm late," he said as he set his briefcase down by the door and took his coat off. "Jess asked me to pick up some groceries for dinner tonight."

Dean's eyes widened. "Dude, careful with the name mix-ups around Becca. She knows about Jess."

Cas tilted his head, confused expression on his face, then he shook his head. "Sorry. I'm tired," he said as he took a seat on the couch.

Dean almost moved away, Cas having sat so close that Dean could feel the warmth. Even after all this time, Cas didn't really get the personal space thing. Usually Dean didn't mind.

"Are those the papers?" Cas asked, nearly glaring at the papers on the coffee table.

"Yeah," Dean said as he picked up the stack and handed them to Cas. "I filled out what I could. The rest is all you."

Cas slowly looked through the papers, studying each one individually. Dean wondered if his eyes were getting strained without his glasses, but Cas didn't mention it. When Cas got to the last page, Dean handed him a pen.

Instead of taking it, Cas just stared at the pen as if he'd never seen one before. And then he looked up at Dean. "I don't want to do this," he said, voice cracking.

Dean tried to stay strong. This was going to be a good thing. It was the best option. It would hurt, but they'd both recover. They'd both look back on this one day and realize it was the right thing to do.

"I'm sorry," Cas said, letting the stack of papers drop down onto his lap. "I don't really understand why we have to get a divorce."

"Cas, we talked about it," Dean said.

"No," Cas said. "You told me you weren't in love with me anymore, that we barely ever saw each other, but we didn't talk about it. You didn't give me a chance to work on anything or change my habits."

Dean knew they were Sam's words and not Cas', but he also knew that Cas really meant it.

"I still love you," Cas said. "I still feel like I'm _in_ love with you."

Dean didn't want to hurt Cas any more than he already had, but he had to get through to him. "Is that why you're never here? Because you're so in love with me?"

"I'm busy," Cas said, "but that doesn't mean I _want_ to be at the university all the time."

"They really like you," Dean said. "If you wanted a lighter workload, they'd let you have it. And between the two of us we make more than enough to live on, but the both of us work more than we really need to. That says to me we don't really want to come home."

"I do want to be home," Cas said, a little desperate. "I enjoy being with you."

"Cas, it's not just you," Dean said, wiping his palms on his jeans. "We both let this happen."

"Then we can stop it," Cas said, voice stronger. "I don't want to sign these papers," he said as he held the papers up. "Sam told me it's not over until I sign the papers, and I'm not signing them."

"Don't drag this out," Dean said, a little irritated. "It's only prolonging the inevitable."

Cas shook his head. "Sam said I should make you tell me how I can fix this."

"Fuck Sam," Dean said bluntly.

Cas' eyes widened. "What?!"

"He thinks we're going to work this out," Dean said, letting out a huff of not-so-funny laughter. "That we'll talk it out and everything will be okay. But I saw you. I saw you with your student. That cute little thing that wanted extra credit? You're fucking her."

Cas shook his head. "No! I'm not! I never touched her!"

"Does she give better head than me, Cas?" Dean asked, knowing he was going in for the kill and not giving a shit.

"I've never fucked her!" Cas said, wincing as if even the thought was horrible.

"How many of those students have you fucked?" Dean asked.

Cas' eyes welled up with tears, his cheeks turning pink. "I haven't been doing anything inappropriate with the students. I've been working overtime because your birthday is in two weeks and I was going to take you to a bed and breakfast in Oregon."

"What?" Dean asked, face screwed up in confusion.

"That bed and breakfast you saw on TV," Cas said. "It's expensive, and it's a long drive up the coast, so I already asked for three weeks off from the university and three weeks off from the hospital. I cleared it with Ray. It's not paid time off, so I knew we'd need money for everything I wanted to do with you on the vacation and also our bills. I took on an extra class and I'm tutoring some students for money."

Dean snorted. "You think I'd want to go to a bed and breakfast with you?" he asked.

Cas frowned. "You don't?"

"No!" Dean said. "I'm so fucking tired of living with you, so tired of this whole thing that I can't wait for you to sign those papers. I can't wait until I can get my shit outta this house and never see you again!"

It was as if Dean had flipped a switch. Cas was fighting for them one second, and in the next second his body deflated and the determined expression on his face was gone, replaced by a blank stare.

Cas took the papers and pen from Dean and signed them. Less than two minutes later Cas was walking out the front door and out of Dean's life.

*

Dean showed up on time for dinner at Sam's house, but let out a growl when he saw Cas' car in the driveway. Sam hadn't said anything to Dean, but Dean knew his little brother was trying to get them back together.

It had been two months since the divorce had been finalized, but after Dean had moved out, he hadn't seen Cas again.

Instead of driving away, he went inside. If Sam and Cas were going to play with him like this, then he'd at least get a good meal out of it.

Cas' eyes got so wide when Dean walked in that Dean nearly laughed. Cas stood up from the kitchen table and held out his hands in surrender.

"I didn't know they invited you," he said. "I'm sorry."

Sam chuckled as he patted Cas' seat. "Sit back down, Cas. This is gonna be fun."

Cas shook his head. "No, I should go."

"Sit down," Becca said, her voice almost a growl as she grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked.

Cas sat down, looking bewildered and shocked. The kids were already eating, but Dean sat down next to Cas as he normally did.

"I thought it would be funny to see the two of you at the same table again," Sam said.

"And," Becca drawled, "we thought it would be a great time to let you know after this dinner you're not welcome here anymore."

Cas cringed in his seat. "I can leave now if you'd like."

"No, no," Sam said. "Finish your food. This is fuckin' funny!"

"Have you fucked any more students?" Dean asked, nudging him.

Cas looked over at the children, then back at Dean. "No, I never touched any of the students that way."

"Oh, c'mon, Cas," Dean said, elbowing him in the ribs. "I'm sure we'd all like to hear about everything you did with Chelsea. Did you fuck her right on your desk? Did you eat her out on the couch?"

"Did she let you fuck her in the ass?" Sam asked, giving him a wink.

Bobby laughed and pointed at Cas. "He likes fucking that stupid whore."

Cas looked down at his plate, curling in on himself as if the words were physically hurting him.

"Uncle Cas?" Jenna said.

Cas looked up at her, the expression on his face telling all of them that he really didn't want to know what the girl was going to say to him.

"Cas, wake up," Jenna said, only it wasn't a little girl's voice that came out of her mouth. "C'mon, buddy, wake up. Quit sleepin' on the job. C'mon. Open those baby blues."

Cas put his hands over his face, his head suddenly hurting so badly that he let out a moan of pain.

"I know it hurts, Cas, but you gotta wake up."

Cas knew that voice. It was Dean. It was the man he'd fallen for. The one he'd defied Heaven for. The one he'd pulled from Hell.

"C'mon," Dean said, "open your eyes."

Cas squinted as he obeyed Dean, but the light was bright and hurt. He groaned, trying to get away from the pain.

"Quit shining the light in his eyes, Sam," Dean said. "Okay, you can open your eyes now, Cas."

Cas forced himself to open his eyes again, and this time the light was soft and didn't hurt his eyes.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

Cas took a quick look around, his stomach rebelling when he realized he was in a dilapidated house, the paint on the walls yellowed with age, the carpet disgusting and smelly beneath him, and the windows busted and letting in the cold night air.

"I think you got knocked out by that witch," Dean said, smirking.

Cas recognized that smirk. It was the one Dean used when he was trying to be funny to hide his concern.

"She got the drop on ya, huh?" Dean asked, patting his chest.

"Apparently she did," Cas said, letting Dean help him up. He felt dizzy for a moment, but Dean held on until he was steady on his feet.

Cas felt a strong sense of deja vu. He'd been in this house before. Years ago. No, it wasn't years ago. It only felt like that.

"You ready to get outta here?" Dean asked, staying close just in case.

"Yes," Cas replied.

Dean smiled, then gestured toward the door. "You first. I wanna make sure you don't pass out again."

Cas nodded, then started for the door. They walked outside and got into the Impala, Dean getting in the driver's seat. Cas couldn't speak. His head felt like it was going to explode, or maybe spin off his shoulders.

When he'd lost his grace, it had been devastating, and he'd never wanted it back as much as he did while Dean drove them back to the bunker. He couldn't control his emotions as a human, even though he'd just experienced about nine years as one.

Nine _years_. Though he knew they'd only been in that dilapidated house for less than an hour, his memory of those nine years seemed so vivid. His mind struggled with the discrepancy for a moment before the ugly truth forced its way to the surface. 

It hadn't been real. Any of it. The life he'd shared with Dean, their marriage, Sam's idyllic life with Becca. _None_ of it had actually happened. Whatever that witch had done to him, it had all been a dream or some sort of hallucination. The pain that realization caused was mind-numbing. His grace would have allowed him to compartmentalize all of it, shove it back into a place where it belonged, but being human, he found himself unable to let it go, even though it hurt. A disgustingly human reaction to pain.

Dean looked at him in the rearview mirror. "You okay, Cas?" he asked.

Cas wasn't okay at all, but he nodded. "I'm fine."

"You hungry?" Dean asked.

Cas thought of all the times Dean had asked that over the years, how many times he'd offered to make Cas something, and how great Dean's burgers off the grill could be.

He wanted one of them. He wanted Dean to make one for him. He wanted to sit with Dean on their couch and watch a stupid movie while the burger juice ran down his chin. He wanted Dean to turn to him and smile, giving him a hard time for the mess all over his face. He wanted Dean to insist on licking him clean.

"Cas?" Dean said, eyes wide in the rearview mirror. "You sure you're okay? Sammy, make sure he's okay," he said as he whacked Sam's arm.

Sam turned in the seat, his long legs knocking into the dashboard, but Dean didn't give him a hard time for it.

"Cas?" Sam said, leaning over the seat.

"I'm fine, Sam," Cas said.

Sam reached out and wiped at Cas' left cheek with his thumb. "You're crying," Sam whispered, eyes widening. "Cas, what's wrong?"

Cas pushed Sam's hand away and looked down at his lap. "My eyes are watering from the powder she threw in my face," he said. It was a lie. Something he'd gotten better at over the years.

That life may have been all in his head, but he'd still picked up some skills, become better at living as a human. And even though the Sam in his head would've called bullshit on his lie because he knew him better than that, this Sam didn't know Cas could lie without major tells. Oh, he still had small tells, but nothing this Sam could pick up on.

"Oh," Sam said, then turned and opened the glove compartment, pulling out a small bottle of holy water. "Here, use this to wash the powder out of your eyes," he said as he handed the bottle to Cas. "You should've said something."

"Sorry," Cas said as he took the bottle and tilted his head back, letting the water run over his closed eyelids, pretending to wash his eyes of the powder before he handed the bottle back to Sam. "Thank you."

"Burgers okay with you guys?" Dean asked.

Cas' chest ached. He _really_ wanted Dean's burgers. And he knew Sam loved them too. "Yes, I'd like burgers," he said, falling back into a more formal speech pattern.

"Awesome," Dean said with a grin. "I found this little hole-in-the-wall diner a few days ago. I'll pick us up some greasy burgers and fries. You want a shake?"

Cas looked out the window. _His_ Dean knew he liked chocolate shakes with lots of whipped cream on top. And a cherry. This Dean only knew Cas liked plain chocolate shakes, because Cas hadn't even discovered whipped cream and cherries were an option yet. It was a trivial thing, but it seemed like a big deal when his husband didn't even know it. Never did.

"Yes, please," Cas said.

*

None of his favorite clothes were in the bunker. He'd become accustomed to the clothes Dean picked out for him.

Just a few weeks after the apocalypse that wasn't, Dean had insisted on a shopping spree, had helped Cas try on so many clothes that Sam had fallen asleep on a chair in the mall. But Dean wanted to make sure Cas tried them all out to see what he'd like wearing.

He didn't have those clothes anymore. He never did. He'd have to find them again, and he didn't even know if those brands existed because he'd never paid attention before. Maybe it was all in his head.

Cas tried to distract himself. He went to the library in the bunker, grabbed three random books, and sat down at the table. His slacks were itchy and stiff, the boxers were too loose, and he never did like the shoes. They hurt his toes. Something he didn't have to deal with when he was an angel and something he didn't know he could avoid as a human until Dean got him boots.

He kicked his shoes off under the table and started skimming the first book. It was boring, and soon enough the ancient rituals of Kurgans blurred and he was thinking about what he'd be doing if he wasn't stuck where he was. If he was still living that life he'd loved.

It had only been five days since he'd been slapped in the face with reality, and he knew that, because it was six o'clock, Dean would have been home already, that if he were to get off work early and go home, Dean would've smiled, asked him how his day had been, and they would have figured out something for dinner together.

They would have watched a movie or gone for a drive. Maybe Dean would have taken him to an ice cream shop. Cas had developed a love for ice cream that Dean got a kick out of, so he liked finding new places to take Cas so they could try out different flavors and toppings.

Cas remembered when Dean found Full Tilt Ice Cream Shop. They had all-natural ingredients and came up with all sorts of stuff to put into and on top of ice cream. Dean had gotten Cas the biggest ice cream cone Cas had ever seen, covered in sprinkles with a drizzling of chocolate that hardened into a crust around the ice cream.

The cone had been perfect, and the ice cream had been the best Cas had ever tasted. He'd dropped a piece of the chocolate shell on his shirt, and he hadn't noticed until it melted, so Dean had sucked his shirt clean in the car.

That was before they'd both started working so much. Back when they spent more time together. Cas shouldn't have allowed that to happen. He should have told Dean why he was working overtime. He'd wanted it to be a surprise, but it had cost him his marriage.

"Found a case?" Sam asked.

Cas let out a noise somewhere between a war cry and a squeak. Maybe even both. Sam smirked at him.

"Sorry," Sam said, but the apology didn't hold much weight with that little smirk on his face. He took a swig out of the tumbler in his right hand, wincing at the taste.

"No, I didn't find a case," Cas said, shoving the book away from him. He felt a little bad for Sam. After all, Cas was the one who'd concocted the foul-smelling drink Sam was currently ingesting. Sam may not have liked the taste of it, but the shake was working to heal all his ailments from the Trials just a few short weeks ago. "I was just doing some reading."

Sam sat down across the table from Cas. "Kurgans, huh?" he said, nodding at the book as he set the tumbler down.

Cas shrugged. "Just felt like reading." He knew it was selfish on his part to give Sam the miracle cure, but knowing what they'd gone through the first time, the betrayal Sam had felt and the huge rift it had caused between the brothers, Cas couldn't bear to put them through that again. He couldn't just sit by and watch Dean slowly die inside once Sam realized what he'd done.

Sam had a funny look on his face, and it wasn't until Cas thought about it that he realized he was being more casual than his old self would've been. It must've looked strange to Sam.

"Are you doing all right, Cas?" Sam asked, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table.

"I'm just tired," Cas lied. Again, _his_ Sam would never have fallen for it.

"Been tired ever since that witch had a go at you," Sam said, nonchalant in a way that Cas knew meant Sam wasn't buying the whole tired thing.

"It was a little upsetting," Cas said. "I've had a few nightmares, so I haven't been sleeping well."

Sam nodded, looking down at the table. Cas knew Sam well enough to realize the guy wouldn't let this go. Sam had to know something was up, and Sam was going to get to the bottom of it.

"Did she do anything to you other than the powder?" Sam asked, looking him in the eye.

"She hit me," Cas said.

Sam winced. "Yeah, other than that. I saw the bruise, by the way. That still hurt?"

Cas shook his head. "Not anymore," he said, and he wasn't lying. She'd used a two by four on his upper back, but it had only hurt for the first two days.

"You having trouble with the fact that you're human and she got the jump on you?" Sam asked, concerned.

Cas nodded. "That never would've happened otherwise." It was true even if it wasn't what was really bothering him.

Sam gave him a reassuring smile. "Well, you've seen, over the years, that being human doesn't mean you're helpless. You've seen what Dean and I have been able to accomplish."

Cas smiled back at him. "You're right, Sam. Thank you," he said, then stood up and walked way.

 _His_ Sam would have followed him.

*

"You hungry?"

Cas flinched so hard he dropped the glass he was holding, the floor in the kitchen ensuring the glass shattered into millions of pieces that went everywhere.

"Sorry," Dean said, wincing as he walked up to Cas, glass crunching beneath his boots. "Lemme help you clean that up."

"I'll get it," Cas said as he walked to the pantry and pulled out the broom and dustpan.

"So are you hungry?" Dean asked again.

Cas' chest ached. He wanted Dean to cook for him. It had become a comfort when his husband had taken the time to cook for him, to find out what Cas liked and didn't like, and the little things Dean would do to make him realize Dean thought the world of him. It was no shocker that Dean had a hard time saying how he felt, but Cas had quickly learned that Dean more than made up for it in the little things he did.

He missed his husband so much it hurt. Sure, they had been going through rough times, but most of the last few years he had experienced were full of contentment with Dean.

"I'd really like a cheeseburger," he blurted, not really having meant to, and he felt himself blush when Dean smiled at him.

"You want me to make a run to that diner?" Dean asked.

Cas knew that look. Dean was amused that Cas was asking for something. Cas didn't ask for little things, at least not before he and Dean had gotten together. It was something he had learned with Dean's help, and Dean had always come alive when Cas asked, that light in his eyes Cas loved to see.

Dean frowned at the pause. "You didn't like that place?" he asked, concerned.

"I'd like cheeseburgers cooked on the grill," Cas said, bold in a way he hadn't felt in a few days. Bold in a way he was able to be with _his_ Dean. Because _his_ Dean would do anything for him.

"I think I could find a place that grills burgers," Dean said, nodding.

"No," Cas said, nervously fingering the handle of the broom. He had been so at ease with _his_ Dean, but with this one he suddenly felt awkward, like a nuisance. "Never mind. The diner burgers are good," he said, then started to sweep up the glass.

"Cas?" Dean said, stepping in Cas' way, more glass crunching under his boot.

Cas stopped and chanced looking Dean in the eye. "Yes?"

"Just tell me what you want," Dean said, and instead of teasing him or appearing annoyed, Cas got the feeling Dean really wanted to know.

"I want your burgers," Cas said. "I want _you_ to cook us cheeseburgers."

Dean froze for a moment, but then he smiled. "I can do that," he said.

Cas felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders, and for a brief moment he felt like he did back in the world that had been created by his own mind. Because Dean had said that exact phrase whenever Cas had asked something of him. Those four simple words meant Dean would put his all into it until Cas would get what he wanted.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas said, ducking his head and sweeping again.

"We don't have a grill here," Dean said, stepping out of the way of the broom, "and we don't have any hamburger meat, so I'm gonna head over to that giant megasuperstore market thing that has pretty much everything you could ever want. We'll have cheeseburgers for dinner, okay?"

Cas smiled. "I'd like that."

Dean had also taught Cas the joy of a victory dance when things went well, but Cas managed to control himself and not break out in a little wiggle when Dean left the kitchen.

*

"What's the occasion?" Sam asked as he walked into the kitchen.

Dean hadn't just bought hamburger meat, cheese, and a grill. He'd also brought home any condiment one could possibly want on a burger and fresh-baked rolls. It was all spread out on the stainless steel table.

"What'll it be, Sammy?" Dean asked as he made a sweeping motion over his burger bar.

Cas chuckled. It felt so much like home, like _his_ Dean, like _his_ Sam that Cas let himself get lost in the moment, let himself forget that the last few years hadn't been real.

"I'd like lots of ketchup," Cas blurted. "And pickles. Mustard too."

Sam huffed out a laugh as he walked up to the table. "The burgers smell great," he said, eyeing up all the condiments. "I want mustard, tomatoes, and lettuce," he said with a nod.

"Comin' up," Dean said as he arranged three cheeseburgers on three plates and started adding toppings to each of them.

When Cas' plate was pushed in front of him, he took a moment to drink in the wonderful smell of Dean's grilling skills. Sam was already moaning around a mouthful of burger.

Cas picked up his burger and took a huge bite, closing his eyes. It was home. It was Dean. It was years of a life he wanted so badly he, well, he could taste it. He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes, and when he opened them, both Sam and Dean were looking at him, Dean with a grin on his face and Sam with wide eyes.

"Those are some pretty happy noises there, dude," Dean said, amused.

Cas didn't even blush. He didn't care who heard him making happy noises while he ate Dean's burger. They were the best burgers he'd ever found, and he was so glad he'd asked Dean for them.

"S'good," Cas said with another mouthful of food.

Sam chuckled. "He likes to act as if he's clueless in the kitchen, but I've always loved Dean's cooking."

Dean's smile grew. "Yeah, I forgot how much I liked cooking something. It's been a while. And this kitchen is pretty awesome, so maybe I should take advantage of that."

"Yes!" Cas said, nodding enthusiastically.

Dean chuckled. "Okay. I don't think we'll always have the time, but if you guys want some home cookin', I'll try to fit it in when I can."

Cas didn't think anything could wipe the smile off his face.

*

Cas knew he had to wait until a few more things happened. They weren't happening quickly enough, and in fact he wished he could move things along faster.

Dean always had a big heart, and his love and devotion for a select few was part of what made Dean who he was. But _his_ Dean, Cas' Dean hadn't been ready to be with Cas intimately until after he'd allowed an angel to possess his brother. After Kevin had died. After he'd taken on the Mark of Cain. After he'd lost Charlie. After he'd lost control. And after he'd released The Darkness into the world.

Not that Dean didn't love him in his own way before that, but he wasn't ready to allow anyone else to love him back. Not in an intimate way. So watching Dean flirt with a hot bartender while they were grabbing some dinner after a hunt really fucking hurt. Not because Dean was betraying him in some way. No, Cas knew better. The Dean in his head hadn't happened yet. Dean would never hurt him like that.

It hurt because Cas knew his husband was in there. Knew he wasn't ready to come out yet, but that he was in there. And Dean had to go through even more pain than he'd already experienced in his relatively short life before Cas could have him.

"See you guys tomorrow," Dean said, smirking as he left the bar, the bartender hanging off his right arm and walking with the confidence of a woman who knew she was gonna get laid by a hot guy.

Cas swirled his French fry through the ketchup on his plate, not really paying attention to it, but instead remembering the times Dean had made him French fries from scratch. Even cutting the potatoes himself. They were the best fries he'd ever had.

When Cas finally raised his eyes from his plate, Sam was looking at him a little too closely. The moment was gone when another bartender, this one older and a lot more tired, walked up to their table.

"Anything else?" the woman asked, pushing some stray hair hanging in her face behind her right ear.

"No, we're good," Sam said.

Then she was gone, and Sam was pulling out his wallet. He set a few bills on the table, and it wasn't until then that Cas realized he hadn't finished his own food. He'd been too lost in his memories, hiding from the fact that Dean was in some random motel room fucking the bartender.

"Not hungry?" Sam asked.

Cas shoved the ketchup-covered fry into his mouth. "I am," he said, avoiding direct eye contact. But a few more bites and he lost his appetite, so he pushed the plate away.

Sam picked the keys up off the table, the ones Dean had left behind, and stood up before offering a hand to Cas. "Let's get outta here. I feel like going for a drive."

Cas took Sam's hand and soon they were driving down back roads and through older areas where the houses were spread out and the neighborhoods not as developed. Cas frowned when Sam stopped the car and got out.

Sam leaned down before closing his door and looked at Cas. "C'mon. It's a nice night," he said, then closed the driver's side door and walked away.

Cas got out of the car, surprised when he had no idea where they were. Usually he paid attention to things like that, but he was clueless and hurried to follow Sam. Sam climbed up on a grouping of rocks and sat down, swinging his long legs over the side.

When Cas climbed up on a rock next to Sam, he let out a sigh. It was beautiful. The city was below them and twinkling with lights. It was a sharp contrast to the quiet darkness they were surrounded by.

"Dean's not gonna say anything," Sam said, looking out at the city. "He's convinced you just need to work through some shit in your head, but we're both worried about you."

Cas didn't say anything. He'd been trying so hard to act normal, like he had nine years ago, but he wasn't that person anymore. He knew he'd been slipping.

"You wanna tell me what happened in that house?" Sam asked. "Because that witch did something to you. Dean even asked me if we should try throwing holy water on you, but you still seem like you. Just different in some way."

Cas' throat felt dry, and it was painful to swallow. He let his eyes skim over the city's lights, torn between telling Sam everything and brushing it off as nothing.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Sam said. "I'm not asking because we feel like you're a threat. We care about you, and it looks like you're having a hard time."

Cas ran the fingers of his left hand over the rock and found a smaller pebble. Playing with it nervously, he was reminded of a time when he'd had a conversation like this with Sam. It was just before Bobby had been born. Sam had been terrified that he was going to make awful mistakes as a father, that he was going to irrevocably fuck up his own kid.

Sam hadn't wanted to talk to Dean about it. Dean had been such a big influence in his life and he'd known that Dean would have just encouraged him, told him he'd be a great father and there was nothing to worry about.

But Cas had been there for him. He'd sat with Sam just like this. Distracted by a lake, the light reflected by the moon and onto the water calming and the silence around them a safe place to admit Sam was worried his kid would hate him as much as he'd hated John when he was a teenager.

Sam didn't hate him anymore. But to imagine that his kid could feel that way was upsetting.

"Every child feels some resentment toward their parents," Cas had said. "Parents are human and make mistakes. Even as much as you hated John, you still loved him, and once you grew up enough to realize why he made the decisions he made, you stopped hating him."

Sam had gotten a little sniffly, but in the end Cas' words had been a relief. Instead of just sugarcoating things and saying everything would be okay, Cas had told him that yes, it would hurt, but it was worth it. And Sam had been a wonderful father.

Cas flicked the pebble away, listening to it hit the rock at various points on the way to the ground.

"It took Dean a while to wake you up," Sam said. "And while he was doing that, I was trying to find out what happened to you. So I read a few lines of the spell she used on you."

Cas focused on a particularly pretty blue light down toward the east end of town. It was in front of a large building, but Cas had no idea what it was advertising. It was just pretty.

"You can talk to me about it," Sam said. "I won't tell Dean if you don't want me to. He doesn't know I read the spell."

Cas couldn't speak. He didn't want to. Yet a huge part of him _did_ want to. Dean had always been there for him, but times when Cas couldn't or didn't want to go to Dean on something, Sam had been there. He'd even helped Cas figure out what to get Dean for anniversaries. Dean was hard to shop for, and he didn't really ask for things, which made it difficult for a newly-human angel.

"How long?" Sam asked.

Cas knew exactly what he was asking. Sam knew. He'd read enough of the spell to know what she'd done to him.

"Nine years," Cas said softly.

"Fuck," Sam whispered.

They sat in silence for a while. It wasn't awkward, and Cas was grateful for it. Dean had always complained that Sam was a pain in the ass when he was trying to find out what was wrong with someone, but Cas knew that was just how to get things out of Dean. With Cas it was comfortable silence, and Sam was well aware of that.

"I've seen the way you look at Dean since you woke up," Sam said. "And I just want you to know that you can tell me anything. I won't judge and I won't tell Dean if you don't want me to."

Cas let out a huff of laughter. "You said almost those exact same words nine years ago."

Sam chuckled. "And was that good advice or did I fuck something up?"

"It was good," Cas said. "It was really good."

"You love him," Sam said instead of asked. "Well, I mean, I know you guys love each other, but I mean you're _in_ love with him."

"Enough to say yes when he asked me to marry him," Cas said.

Sam turned to him, a twinkle in his eye. "Did he ask me to be best man?" he asked with a grin.

Cas chuckled, the tension relieved. Sam had always been able to do that for him. "Yes, you were the best man."

"Awesome," Sam said, then he nudged Cas' left arm. "How about me? What did I do with my life?"

"You were happy," Cas said.

Sam smiled, nodding. "That's good. That's great."

"I don't know how to act," Cas said, watching as Sam sobered. "I've tried to pretend as if the last nine years didn't happen, because I know it didn't, but I keep slipping up. In my head, it _did_ happen and it changed me. So much that I don't know how to be the old me anymore, the one I know you're both expecting me to be."

Sam shrugged. "So don't. Everything in life changes you. That's the essence of being human. What defines us isn't what happens to us, but how we _deal_ with the things that happen to us. Something happened to you, and because you're human, you can't go back to what you were before no matter how much you want to, or how much you think others expect it."

"Dean will notice," Cas said.

Sam chuckled. "He already noticed. Did you remember the part where I said we're both worried about you? So go with it. You had an experience that changed you. He might try to get the details out of you, but you don't have to tell him if you don't want to. But maybe you should stop trying so hard to ignore the last nine years. The ones in your head. It's you, and you know Dean and I well enough that it was probably pretty close to who we are too. Was it good? Were you happy?"

Cas nodded. "Toward the end it was horrible, but I think it was because Dean was trying to pull me out of it. The spell was fighting it. Until then I was happy. We were all happy," he said, then shrugged.

"Your subconscious gave you a gift," Sam said. "You know the spell because you heard her say it. I didn't read it all, but I read enough to know there was nothing malicious about it. She probably wanted to distract you, to get you out of the way while she escaped, and she most likely used the first spell in her book that could get your head in a different place. You cobbled together pieces of all of us, and I'd be willing to bet it was as close to reality as possible."

"It feels that way," Cas said. "Other than what I've done differently since then, it's all happening over again. Even the hunts."

"How can that be possible?" Sam asked, frowning. "I mean, I figured we'd be pretty much us in your head, that the future you were living could be a possibility, but how can even the hunts be the same?"

"She was powerful," Cas said. "She was very old and had psychic powers. The amount of knowledge in my head isn't that of a normal human, and I believe everything worked together including her power, the spell, and my knowledge."

"You think you saw the actual future?" Sam asked, eyes widening.

Cas nodded. "I can't be sure, but things are happening very closely to the timeline in my mind."

"And we were all happy in that future?" Sam asked again.

Cas smiled. "Very."

"Were there hiccups along the way?" Sam asked. "Did shit happen? Anything bad that would prove it wasn't just a fairy tale in your head?"

"There were bad things, yes," Cas said with a nod. "But it all had to happen. It all led to the end result."

Sam winced, but then he shook it off as if he knew he had to keep himself from asking about all the bad shit. He took a moment to mull over everything Cas had said. "Then get us there,” he finally said, turning to Cas. “If you can move things along and admit your feelings to Dean before you did in your timeline, then do it.”

"He’s not ready," Cas said, shaking his head. "He wasn't ready until after... He wasn't ready."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe you’re the one who wasn't ready. Maybe Dean's more ready than you think he is."

"You think I should walk up to him and ask him to marry me?" Cas asked, smirking at Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes. "No. We both know that'll get you a flustered and freaked out Dean,” he admitted. “But if you can’t move it along, then maybe you should just go with it. You already know we're headed for a time and place we all end up happy. What could be bad about that?”

Cas looked out at the city again. He wasn't good at a poker face anymore, and Sam already was reading him better than he had before the witch had shoved the next nine years into his head.

"I trust you, Cas," Sam said. "I know you gotta break some eggs to make an omelet. If it's going to change that place where we're all happy, don't tell me. When the time comes and there's tough decisions to be made, if I fight it at all, just tell me to let go and I will. I trust you."

"Even if it wasn't the real future?" Cas asked. Because he'd been thinking the same thing since he'd awakened from it.

"I trust you," Sam said again. "And even if it doesn't work out that way, I can't see how it would hurt.”

Cas nodded. "Thank you, Sam."

"Okay," Sam said before turning to look out at the city lights. They sat there in silence for a moment. “Married, huh?” he said, with just a hint of incredulity in his voice.

When Sam turned to look at him, Cas was smiling, a warm feeling in his chest. “Yes,” Cas said, still smiling.

Sam’s eyes widened slightly, then he grinned. “Ok, spill,” he said with a nudge to Cas’ shoulder. “Tell me what a sappy dork my brother turns into."

Cas laughed, shaking his head.

*

"Hey, Cas," Sam said, catching him halfway through a yoga routine.

Cas hadn't started up yoga until Becca had convinced Sam it was awesome, then Sam had roped both Cas and Dean into it too. Cas always felt more relaxed when he did it, and the fact that Dean catching him partway through a routine meant he'd get laid if they were alone was just a bonus.

"Hi, Sam," Cas said, going to his knees and resting between poses.

"You seen Dean?" Sam asked.

"No," Cas said, shaking his head.

It was probably a good thing this Dean hadn't seen him practicing yoga. It might have broken the poor man's brain. _His_ Dean loved checking him out while he was in poses, and he also loved randomly touching Cas. Sometimes it would make Cas break position, but they always had fun when that happened.

"If it's important, you can text him."

"No, no," Sam said, frowning. "It's not important. I just found a hunt about six hours from here, and I know he's been itching to tackle something like this."

Cas remembered that hunt. None of them had gotten hurt, at least not all that badly, and Dean had enjoyed himself thoroughly. "Send him a text," he said, shrugging. "At least let him know what you found."

"Yeah," Sam said, pulling out his phone. "So you like yoga now?"

Cas smiled. "You taught me some of these poses."

Sam chuckled as he sent off his text and put his phone back into his pocket. "Well I did a shitty job with that last one. You were out of position just a little."

"You know the poses?" Cas asked, frowning.

"Yeah, I did yoga in college," Sam said, then scrunched up his nose. "Wait, I thought you said I taught you. Why'd you think I didn't know them if I taught you the poses in your future?"

Cas had learned a little more about humanity, even if it was in his own head, and he felt a warmth in his chest when he realized Sam must have feigned ignorance so Becca would teach him yoga. It was sweet, and Cas wondered why Sam had never said anything to him. Cas wouldn't have told Becca if Sam didn't want him to.

"No reason," Cas said, shaking his head and spreading his knees apart to go into another pose. "And the pose was modified. Dean and I modified it because of his knee, and I just got used to doing it that way."

Dean had injured the knee while Cas was human, but wouldn't allow Cas to heal him once he got his grace back. He'd been too mad at the world, felt too guilty about letting an angel possess Sam that he didn't feel he deserved it until it was too late and the world no longer had anything supernatural in it. But Sam didn't need to know that.

Sam got down on the floor, the cushioned mat they used for sparring more than enough for holding the pose he got into. "Are you still worried it's not going to happen the way it played out in your head?" he asked, voice soft in a way that said Sam didn't want to hurt Cas, but he was concerned.

Cas stretched his left leg out and made sure he was steady before answering. "Sometimes, but then something else will happen here in the real world just like it happened in my head and it reassures me."

"So you're not worried you're changing things?" Sam asked.

"I haven't so far," Cas said.

"Lucy, I'm home!" Dean called from the hallway.

Cas moved out of the pose and sat down on the mat, crossing his legs, pleased when Sam did the same. Sam hadn't said much about Cas' time in his own head, but he also hadn't said anything to Dean about it.

Sam chuckled. "You're never gonna get tired of that line, are you, Ricky?"

Dean smirked. "Still cracks you up," he said.

Sam shook his head, chuckling again. "Ya got me there."

"So when are we leavin'?" Dean asked, rubbing his hands together in an almost gleeful way.

"I'll change," Cas said, getting up and heading for his room.

"You do that," Dean said, "and we'll make sure the car's packed."

*

"Zombie birds," Dean said again, shaking his head and chuckling. "I can't believe I'm on a hunt for zombie birds!"

Sam huffed out a laugh as he handed Dean a handmade flamethrower. It was more of a blowtorch, but they'd modified a tank, sort of like an acetylene torch, to make a handheld version of the flamethrower. It wasn't the safest thing, but it got the job done.

"So do we make bird calls or some shit like that?" Dean asked, rubbing his thumb over the tip of the pipe where the flame would exit, just to make sure it wasn't clogged. "And what if they fly away?"

"You didn't think to ask this before now?" Sam teased. "You just heard zombie birds and that's all the info you need?"

Cas hadn't been able to use the small hunting knife he'd taken last time when they'd done this hunt in his head, so he left it behind and took a hatchet. It wouldn't give him much more range, but he remembered having to walk around and just yank a bunch of necks, which had been gross because of all the gore, rotting flesh, and ratty feathers. He remembered wishing he'd taken the hatchet.

"I figured if there was anything important, you'd tell me," Dean said as he shoved a gun down the back of his jeans.

"You need to behead them," Sam said, grabbing the machete, which is what Dean had taken the first time around.

This time, Dean grabbed the small hunting knife that Cas had decided against. Cas also took the baseball bat. It hadn't really been pleasant to get gore all over his face when he'd hit one of the birds with the bat, but it had been effective, making their little heads explode and accomplishing more than he'd been able to with the knife.

"Let's do this," Dean said, closing the trunk and heading off toward the trees.

It didn't take long to find the birds. And really they were more pathetic than scary. Most of them were gnawing on a dead deer.

"Seriously?" Dean said, a little disappointed. "I expected a lot more snarling. Maybe some moaning?" he shook his head. "Where's the challenge?"

Cas got away with a smirk because Dean was complaining to Sam and hadn't looked his way. The next second the first bird realized with its little zombie brain that Dean was looking a little tasty, so it flop-flew up and headed for his back. Cas wasn't worried. The sound of the wings and the horror-film-esque screeching alerted Dean long before the thing was even close to him.

Dean spun around, hunting knife in hand, and sliced the thing's head clean off, the body flopping to the ground. Cas was ready, because as soon as the bird's body hit the mossy leaves covering the ground, all the rest of the crows, finches, sparrows, and a couple of hawks decided to attack.

There were birds everywhere, and even as some of them caught the business end of the flamethrower and exploded, gore spraying all over them, others flew into each other and turned the whole thing into the most ridiculous horde of anything Cas had ever seen.

A hawk screeched as it headed for Sam's hair, then Sam screeched when he realized said hawk was on fire and his hair was getting singed. Dean's knife got stuck in a crow, and as he shook the thing off, it hit two other crows, sending them down to the ground, a sickening splat-crunch of a sound before they were up again and pecking at his ankles.

Cas knocked the hawk away from Sam's head, but not before a lock of Sam's hair caught fire. Thankfully Sam had started flailing around, his machete catching the second hawk, which sprayed gore all over Sam's head, conveniently putting out the fire.

Sam recovered quickly and started swinging again while Cas held the baseball bat with both hands and hit as many birds as he could. Cas cringed when he heard a screech from somewhere behind him. He knew it was the vulture. Yeah, a fucking vulture.

The powerful wings smacked him in the head, sending him stumbling off to his left. He tripped over a rock, going down hard. There were blinding colors and deafening sounds for a moment just before the pain in his skull registered, and Cas rolled onto his back, stunned.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, but soon two worried faces were hovering over him.

"Cas!" Dean was saying. "You okay?"

Sam was down on his knees and cupping the side of Cas' head. "Cas, say something."

"Ow," Cas said, frowning as he reached up.

"Dean, gimme your-," he started, but before Sam could finish, Dean had already shoved his recently torn-off sleeve into Sam's hand.

"What happened?" Cas asked, blinking up at Dean as Sam wrapped the material around Cas' head and applied pressure.

"C'mon, Cas," Dean said as the two of them each took a side and hefted Cas up between them, headed for the car.

"This didn't happen," Cas said, squinting as he tried to touch the side of his head.

"You're gonna be okay, Cas," Sam said, grabbing Cas' hand before he could touch.

"But this didn't happen," Cas insisted.

He didn't remember the car ride to the hospital, but he did remember Dean loudly insisting, "Just start fixing him! I'll get the fuckin' insurance info filled out! Just fix him!"

*

Cas felt really good. Everything was fluffy and warm and just really good. When the nurse gave him another injection, something felt cold as it spread throughout his body, but then it became warm again.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said, eyes a little wider than normal. "We need to get you outta here."

Sam was on the other side of him, and both of them helped him out of the bed. "Hang onto us."

Cas smiled at them. "Home?" he asked.

"Yeah, we're goin' home," Dean said. "Fuckin' nurses and their stupid fuckin' computer skills. Whatever happened to the days when fake IDs got ya at least a day or two in the hospital?"

Cas gasped as they got outside. He couldn't see, and he was scared something had happened to his eyes on the way out. What if he was never able to see again?

"Calm down, dude," Dean said. "It's nighttime. You can still see."

Oh, he'd said that out loud. Okay, well, if Dean said he could still see, then he could probably still see. The car ride back to the bunker was quiet, and Cas really wanted to sleep, comfortable in the back seat with Sam as his pillow, but Sam kept waking him up.

"That didn't happen," Cas said after Sam woke him up for the fourth time.

"It's okay," Sam whispered, holding Cas close. "Everything's going to be okay."

"But it didn't happen," Cas said.

"I know," Sam said, nodding. "But it's going to be okay."

"What's he talkin' about, Sam?" Dean asked from the driver's seat.

"I think he's having a hard time dealing with the whole I'm-a-human-and-can-get-hurt thing," Sam said, an odd expression on his face. "It's gonna be okay, Cas," he said, smiling at Cas.

Cas nodded, then put his head down on Sam's shoulder. Sam felt good. He was warm and he had his right arm wrapped around Cas. He didn't smell good. He smelled like rotting flesh. But that was okay. Cas didn't mind.

*

Cas spent a lot of time reading over the next few days. Nothing in particular. His head hurt whenever he tried to do anything strenuous, and even reading too long made it hurt. He leaned against the bookshelf as he sat on the floor, legs crossed, book forgotten in his lap.

"You okay?" Sam asked as he sat down on the floor next to Cas.

"I don't need the pain pills anymore," Cas said, reaching up to gently touch the bandage on the left side of his head. "It's much better."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it, but that's not what I meant," Sam said.

"I know," Cas said, frowning down at the book.

"So what _did_ happen the first time around?" Sam asked, glancing toward the doorway in case Dean was somewhere near.

Cas used to feel reassured by the way Sam treated the events in his head as being reality, like it was an alternate universe that Cas had been in for years, but now it felt hollow.

"None of us got hurt," Cas said. "Your hair was a little singed, but that was the worst of the damage."

Sam leaned in closer, letting their sides brush up against each other. "You know, it might not mean that future you were hoping for is a lost cause," he said, keeping is voice low.

"It was my fault," Cas said, turning to look up at Sam. His throat felt tight, mouth dry. He shook his head. "It was such a simple thing. I didn't think it would matter."

"You changed something?" Sam asked, the tone of his voice more interested than shocked or upset.

Cas nodded. "The first time around I was the one who took the hunting knife, Dean had the baseball bat and the machete."

"Fuck," Sam said. "That's it? Nothing else was different?"

Cas winced. "I didn't think it would be a good idea to tell you about your hair before it happened."

Sam chuckled. "No, it's okay. If something as small as what weapons we're carrying to stop a horde of zombie birds can change things that drastically, then maybe we need to be more careful."

Cas sighed, resting his head back against the bookshelf. "I didn't think it would make a difference, but if my head had hit that rock one inch to the left, it would've possibly killed me with a blow to my temporal nerves."

"Then we stick to the plan," Sam said. "If you notice me or Dean changing what we did the first time around, just nudge us in the right direction. If he fights it, I'll put up a fuss. You know he'll let me do what I want if I throw a fit about something."

Cas chuckled when Sam nudged him playfully. "Okay."

"Try not to freak out over it," Sam said. "Maybe we don't have to follow everything exactly. Maybe we'll always end up in the same place we were meant to be."

"I hope so," Cas said. "Feeling the way I do, being human and feeling so vulnerable and so ineffectual, I'm scared that I'll be the reason we miss out."

"So don't think about it that way," Sam said. "We're only human. Too much weight on our shoulders makes us fuck up. So just try to keep nudging us in the right direction. All you can do is hope for the best. We still don't even known if what you saw was really the future. It might just be some fantasy your unconscious mind threw at you."

"I've considered that possibility," Cas said. "But it wasn't a fantasy world. There were still problems. Dean and I had disagreements, bad things happened, and life was hard at times."

"Even so," Sam said, "you're not stupid, and you know full well that life isn't easy. Maybe your unconscious mind wouldn't give you an awesome fantasy world even if a djinn let you have everything your heart desired."

"But if that's true, then that means...," he trailed off, eyes unfocused as he looked toward the doorway.

"Okay, then knock it off," Sam said, voice stronger, louder as he sat up and turned to Cas. "We're gonna get there. That future where things are good but not perfect. We're gonna make it. Just do your best, and I'm here for you whenever you start to feel unsure about it."

Cas looked up at Sam. "How can you be so sure about it? I've told you about some fantasy world in my head, and you just went on like that could be our future. Why?"

"You have no reason to lie, in the first place," Sam said. "And besides that, I can see such a difference in you. You're not the same guy who got jumped by a witch. Dean can see something's up, but he's too scared to talk about it. He's scared the realities of being human have broken you. But I know why you're like this. And I want to believe that what you experienced, what you saw inside your own head can be our future. You haven't told me a whole lot about it, but I want it. And so what if we're wrong?"

Cas smiled. "You're right."

"Yeah, I am," Sam said with a grin.

"I always went to you for advice," Cas said. "You were always there for me."

"Was I always right?" Sam asked.

Cas chuckled. "Most of the time. And even when you weren't right, you still had my best interests at heart."

"Good, then just go with me on this," Sam said. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Dean kills the both of us when he finds out," Cas said without hesitation.

Sam tilted his head back and let out a hearty laugh. "C'mon, I'm hungry," he said, still laughing as he hefted himself up and held out a hand for Cas. "Let's go see if we can get Dean to make us dinner."

Cas smiled as he took Sam's hand. "He makes really good twice-baked potatoes too."

"Oh, yeah," Sam moaned as they headed for the doorway. "Let's ask him to do that and some steaks."

*

Cas was sitting on his bed, a book in his hands. He didn't feel much like socializing, even after Sam's pep talk, and he'd started reading some best seller Sam had brought home for him. It was predictable, but Cas was still enjoying it.

"Time for a bandage change," Dean said as he walked into Cas' room.

Cas looked up, frowning as Dean came in and plopped down on the bed next to him, a new bandage and some disinfectant wipes in his left hand.

"Does it still hurt?" Dean asked as he gently pulled the bandage away from Cas' wound.

Mostly they had to stick the bandages to his hair because the hospital hadn't shaved him, and really there wasn't a reason to do that. It seemed to stay in place for the most part.

"Only if I touch it," Cas said.

Dean was so close he could smell him, and as Dean ever-so-carefully wiped the stitched skin with the disinfectant wipe, Cas felt his cock twitch. He flinched, then turned to look at Dean, eyes wide.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" Dean asked, wincing.

"Um, no," Cas said, relieved that Dean had been too focused on cleaning the wound that he hadn't noticed anything else.

"We should be able to stop putting bandages on this after tomorrow," Dean said, pulling a small tube of triple antibiotic out of his jeans pocket.

Cas closed his eyes, imagining that he'd never been pulled from that world he'd been in. Imagined that Dean was sitting next to him on their bed, touching him so gently, so softly because Dean was like that with him, because his husband thought he was something to be held and loved and treated with care. Not because he was weak, but because Dean just had this way of protecting the ones he loved that could be felt in everything he did with them, even if he was upset or mad.

He couldn't suppress the shiver as Dean smoothed the triple antibiotic over his skin. Dean could be so gentle when he needed to be. And Cas loved that about him. He loved that Dean could take on the biggest of the bad, tearing down anything in his path, and then he could turn around and touch Cas, a whisper of his fingers over Cas' skin, a gentle kiss, the ghost of his breath giving Cas chills even as it turned him on.

Dean put the new bandage into place, but instead of getting up, he just stayed where he was. Finally Cas opened his eyes again and looked at Dean. Cas wanted to pretend. He didn't want to admit that this wasn't _his_ Dean, at least not yet.

Before he could stop himself, he wrapped his arms around Dean and put his head down on Dean's shoulder, breathing in the soap Dean liked to use, the aftershave, and just a hint of grease from when he'd been working on the car earlier in the day.

Dean didn't push him away. Cas knew he wouldn't. Dean could put up a front with everyone, but when someone he loved needed it, Dean would give. Always.

"I know I don't act like it," Dean said, "but if you want to talk to me about anything that's going on, you can."

Cas closed his eyes, his chest feeling tight. He didn't want to let go. He didn't want to pull back and see the old Dean looking back at him. The one that hadn't said 'I do' yet. The one who hadn't held him as he said 'I love you' yet. The one who hadn't yet slipped in the shower while they were trying to fuck, earning himself a scar on his left upper back that Cas loved to kiss and lick.

He chuckled, remembering the expression on Dean's face. Dean had blushed even as the blood oozed from the wound on his back. Sitting on the floor of the shower, cock still hard, and yet the man had blushed because he'd been the one to suggest shower sex, and it was _Dean's_ foot that had slipped, sending the both of them crashing down to the floor.

"You okay, Cas?" Dean asked. But it was that other Dean, not _his_ Dean.

Cas finally pulled back, already missing the warmth. "Yes, I'm fine."

He couldn't have Dean yet. Dean wasn't ready. And if Cas tried to push things along, get his future quicker, he might blow the whole thing. One mistake and it had earned him a gash on the side of his head. He refused to lose Dean because he couldn't be patient.

"You hungry?" Dean asked.

Cas smiled. "Yeah."

Dean smiled back. "What do you want me to make for you?"

Cas' chest felt tight again, only this time it wasn't because he ached for the Dean in his head. No, this time it was because Dean had already realized Cas liked his cooking, and instead of waiting for Cas to suggest it, Dean was offering. It wasn't what he had in his head, but they were getting there, just like Sam said they would.

"Chili and cornbread," Cas said.

Dean chuckled. "I gotta make you cornbread too?" he teased.

Cas nodded. "Cheddar cheese shreds on top of the chili."

Dean slid off the bed. "Okay, but you gotta help me," he said, then held out his hand. "That's a lot of cans to open, and I'll get a cramp in my hand, so you're in charge of the cans while I get the cornbread mix ready."

"Deal," Cas said, taking Dean's hand.

*

"Ah!" Cas yelped, sitting up in bed. It was dark in his room save the desk lamp he kept on.

He was sweating, shivering, and panting. He hadn't had nightmares since he'd been back in the bunker, but he'd had a few of them when he'd been living in his head. Dean had always been there for him, cuddling him in bed until Cas could calm down and fall asleep again. It didn't happen all that often, and in fact Dean had nightmares more often than Cas, but he suddenly felt the need to be with Dean.

Cas stumbled out of bed, the sheets wrapped around his legs, but he ignored them and hobbled across the room until they let go of him. He padded down the hallway and stopped at Dean's door.

Dean was sleeping on his stomach, face smashed into the pillow and turned toward the door, his left leg hanging off the side of the mattress. He was in nothing but his black boxer briefs, the sheets and blanket having been kicked to the end of the bed.

Cas had no reason to be there. Sure, he could climb into bed and explain to Dean he'd had a nightmare, and he knew Dean would take him in. But was that pushing too hard too fast? He'd never gone to Dean for a nightmare before they'd started living together. If he did it now, it might change things.

His heart was still pounding, and the idea of going back to his room alone was damn near overwhelming, so he moved quietly, tip-toeing to the bed, and then he lowered himself to the floor. It wasn't the first time he'd slept on the floor, and even though he knew he'd wake up with a sore neck and back, it was better than the alternative. It took him a while to fall asleep, but he didn't have any more nightmares.

But then something was poking him in the side. He turned over, rubbing his eyes as Dean looked down at him over the edge of the bed.

"You okay?" Dean asked, confused.

"I had a nightmare," Cas said before he was awake enough to come up with something else.

"Get up here, you idiot," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "You're gonna give yourself a bad back sleeping on the floor."

Cas didn't need to be told twice. He climbed into bed and snuggled up behind Dean. Dean only had one pillow, so Cas put his head down on his own right arm, but then Dean was turning over to face him and pushing the pillow at him.

"Here, we can share," Dean said.

Cas smiled as he turned to face Dean and put his head down on his end of the pillow. "Thank you."

*

Castiel woke before Dean, smiling when he realized Dean had wrapped his arms around him sometime in the night. Dean tended to do that. No matter what position they were in when they fell asleep, Dean somehow found a way to wrap himself around Cas or push one leg between Cas' or even just rest his head on Cas' chest or arm.

They were still face-to-face, and Dean's right arm was draped over Cas' left side while Cas' head was using Dean's left arm as a pillow. He didn't want this to ever end. He could smell Dean, feel the warmth of his body, and could hear the soft breathing that meant Dean was asleep, but not very deeply. Dean would wake within the next half hour.

Cas turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on Dean's inner arm, closing his eyes and letting himself imagine that the years in his head, those ones he spent with his husband, were real.

It was a weekend morning. They didn't have to hurry to shower and get to work. Dean would cook him breakfast, and they'd sit at the kitchen table, Dean drinking coffee, Cas with orange juice because he never did develop a taste for dark roast.

Dean would be asking him if there was anything new happening at the university, and Cas would tell him a few things while Dean would listen intently, as if he really gave a shit about what Cas was saying. He'd ask questions and laugh if Cas talked about something even remotely funny.

And Cas would ask about what Dean had planned for the day. Dean had a hectic job that was full of unplanned events and horrors, and on the weekends Dean liked to take things slower.

Sometimes they'd go fishing. Cas didn't really like it all that much, and Dean very rarely caught fish, but it was nice to sit out on the lake, enjoying quiet conversation or just silence.

Other times Dean would just hop in the car and they'd go driving. A lifetime on the road changed a person, even if they'd never hunted the supernatural, and Dean loved driving, loved taking Cas sightseeing and stopping at random places.

And then there were times they'd just spend the day in their boxers on the couch, watching movies for hours, munching on pizza after having scared off yet another pizza delivery person by one of them answering the door in nothing but their boxers.

Cas missed it. Missed it so much it hurt. There was an empty void. He wanted to come clean with Dean, lay it all out on the table. He could taste it. He could see it happening in his head.

But he was too scared to lose that future. He'd never forgive himself if he moved too fast with Dean. Dean had layers upon layers, and walls to keep multiple other walls from being penetrated. Pushing Dean never worked out well.

And yet letting Dean take his time, letting him go at his own pace, lowering his walls on his terms with gentle nudging was beautiful. And Dean had done it. He'd lowered every single wall for Cas and let him in.

Dean made a snuffling noise, and Cas opened his eyes, worried that Dean was waking early. But instead Cas just stayed still, and finally Dean held him tighter and settled again.

And really that's what had broken Dean's walls down. Cas hadn't pushed, hadn't insisted, hadn't nagged. He had just loved Dean, stayed when nobody else had, and when Dean had seen the proof right before his eyes that someone wasn't just giving him empty promises, he'd started coming undone for Cas.

It wasn't all good. Dean had been through literal Hell and many other things that had damaged him. But Cas had taken the good _and_ the bad, and it turned out to be all Dean needed. He needed to know he could show weakness and wouldn't be abandoned, that he could throw a temper tantrum over something and Cas wouldn't rise to the fight, that he could tell Cas he loved him and Cas wouldn't use it to get something out of Dean.

Cas looked up at Dean's face again and held his breath when he saw green eyes looking back at him. He'd been so lost in his head that he hadn't noticed Dean's breathing change.

"Hey," Dean said.

Cas' chest ached so badly that he wanted to rub his fist over it, like a muscle pull that wouldn't stop until he massaged it. "Hi," he said instead.

"Did you sleep okay?" Dean asked, morning voice all scratchy and deep.

"Yes, thank you," Cas said.

"I don't mind you comin' in here when you have nightmares," Dean said. "I've experienced enough of my own and Sammy's to know that sleeping alone makes it worse."

Cas had pushed. He'd slept with Dean to help his nightmares. He'd done something ahead of schedule. He'd done something that had changed their relationship very quickly in that other world.

"Thank you," Cas said, stomach churning.

Dean's stomach growled. "I guess I'm hungry, huh?"

Cas smiled. "Me too," he lied. He didn't know if he could keep anything down.

"Eggs, bacon, and toast?"

The thought of eggs almost made him gag, but he nodded anyway. "Okay."

"I'm gonna grab a shower first," Dean said as he started pulling his arm out from under Cas' head. "Then I'll make breakfast while you're showering."

Cas sat up, longing for the days when they'd shower together, then work side-by-side in the kitchen making breakfast. "Okay."

"See if Sam's up yet," Dean said as he grabbed his towel and headed for the door. "He probably already ate something, but he might want more than that sludge shit."

Cas watched Dean walk out the door, and before Dean could've even made it into the shower, Cas was hurrying for Sam's room. Sam wasn't there, so Cas jogged to the library. Still no Sam. Next he tried the kitchen, but just when he was about to give up, he remembered the training room and headed there.

"You okay?" Sam asked, sitting on a mat in the training room, legs crossed in a relaxed pose.

"I moved too fast," Cas said, eyes wide. He didn't know what was happening, but he was more than scared. He was panting and it felt as if every nerve in his body was on fire. The light was too bright, the sound of Sam's voice too loud, and even when Sam pushed him down to the mat, it wasn't soft.

"...down. Just keep breathing," Sam said, hands gentle on Cas' skin. "Breathe for me. In and out. In and out."

Cas sat on the mat, blinking at Sam, confused and scared, but his breathing seemed to be slower and more deliberate, the lights not so bright, the sounds not too loud. "What happened?" he asked, feeling shaky.

"Did you get panic attacks much when you lived with Dean?" Sam asked.

Cas wasn't stupid. He knew what panic attacks were. He'd just never experienced one before. "That was awful," he said.

Sam smiled. "Yeah. They suck. But now that you're calmed down, you can tell me what set it off. Maybe we can fix whatever it is that freaked you out."

Cas winced. "I moved too fast. With Dean."

"How?" Sam asked, no longer holding Cas' upper arms, but his fingers were running gently over Cas' knees, keeping him grounded with touch.

"I had a nightmare last night," Cas said, looking down at Sam's hands, feeling like a fool. "I always felt safe and could sleep if I was with Dean, so I went to his room. After he found me sleeping on the floor, he called me up on the bed with him. I went," Cas said, whispering the last part like it was a sin he was confessing.

"Did you guys do anything?" Sam asked.

"No," Cas said, shaking his head.

"Then what's there to worry about?" Sam said, shrugging.

"That's how it started," Cas said, looking Sam in the eye. "I had terrible nightmares, and he would let me sleep in his bed because he knew it helped."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, he's had a lot of experience with nightmares. It always helped me when I could climb into bed with him. Wish I could do the same for him, but he's worried he'll hurt me."

"But that's how it started!" Cas said, reaching out and grabbing Sam's shirt desperately.

"Hey, calm down," Sam said, putting his hands over Cas'. "I know you're worried you're fucking the future up, but what if little things like that don't matter? What if all the little decisions aren't as important as the big ones, and we just give too much credit to our actions? You've got so much knowledge in your head, you're much older than even a few generations of humans. In the grand scheme of things, do little decisions really make all that much difference?"

Cas nodded. "Sometimes. But most of the time they don't."

"Okay, so what if working toward that goal you have in your head is what matters?" Sam said. "Maybe it's not all the little things on the journey, but instead it's the destination."

"I never thought we'd end up together," Cas said. "How could I have been working toward that when even after I'd slept in his bed for months, I still didn't realize what we were becoming?"

"You loved him, right?" Sam asked.

Cas frowned. "Of course I love him. I married him!" he hissed.

"No, I mean you loved him even before that," Sam said, grinning. "Cas, you left Heaven, turned on your family, and disobeyed for him. You fought with us and killed your brothers and sisters for him. Are you telling me you felt nothing for him until months after you'd been sleeping in the same bed?"

Cas let out a sigh. "You said the same thing to me in the future," he said, almost disgusted with himself.

Sam chuckled. "And was I right?"

"Yes," Cas admitted.

"Okay, so maybe _that_ time it took me pointing it out for you to realize that you'd loved him long before that," Sam said. "But did it really change the way you felt about him? Did it change your actions all that much?"

"Other than the kissing and sex?" Cas asked, knowing full well the reaction he'd get.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yes, other than that," he said, patronizing tone to his voice.

And Cas knew that was because this Sam didn't know Cas could tease, especially about sex. But as soon as the grin grew on Cas' face, Sam let out a huff of laughter.

"I can see why you and I got along so well in your future," Sam said.

Cas smiled, shaking his head as he looked down at their hands. "I don't want to mess this up," he whispered.

"That's part of being human," Sam said, sobering. "You're going to make mistakes, but just remember how you feel about him. And remember that he doesn't let people in easily. How many people in his life has he let sleep in his bed?"

"He's had many lovers," Cas said, not upset about it, just mentioning the fact.

"Not lovers. I'm talking about people he's let just sleep next to him in bed," Sam said, leaning closer. "I bet you could count them on one hand. You know he cares about you, that he loves you, and that the reason you two finally got together wasn't just because he was helping you through nightmares."

"I _don't_ know that," Cas said.

Sam smiled. "Okay, well, I said I'm trusting you on the awesome future we can all have, so now I want you to trust me when I say he loves you already. Maybe you're not where you'd like to be yet, but it'll come. There's this end game we've all been moving toward all our lives, and I can't believe we'd end up with nothing. I have to believe we all find some kind of happiness. And besides, how many times have I been wrong when I've given you advice?"

Cas smiled. "Not many."

"Breakfast!" Dean yelled from the doorway, making Cas flinch and Sam chuckle.

"Let's eat!" Sam said, standing up and holding a hand out to Cas.

Cas followed Sam to the kitchen, all the things he'd already changed running through his head. He'd never have done most of them if he'd had his grace, and if he was ruining his chances of having that life he saw in his head, he'd be the only one to blame.

*

He'd gotten soft in the years he'd been living happily with Dean, safe in a house without the threat of vampires, demons, werewolves, or anything else that wasn't human. He and Dean still worked out together, but nothing could replace the muscle memory of training and putting that training into practice on a regular basis.

The fact that he was limping away from a hunt he hadn't been hurt on the first time around was both a relief and terrifying. He came to the realization his muscle memory had left him when it came to shooting a gun while lying on his back, which _had_ to mean his mind and body had lost that ability over time. It didn't make sense, but the human part of him, the illogical and emotionally-driven part of him wanted to believe.

It was terrifying because that future he wanted so badly seemed even more out of his reach when so much was changing. He had no idea what, if anything, else could be changed without destroying that future.

"It's just a sprain, buddy," Dean said, patting him on the shoulder as they all made their way back to the Impala. "I've got some pain killers in the trunk. They'll take the edge off, then we'll get your leg elevated when we get back to the bunker."

It hurt, but the pain wasn't what had put the expression on his face that Dean had noticed. Dean was worried, and Cas couldn't help himself. He was trying, but it had been years since he'd been human and had to go up against a soul eater.

The thing had touched Dean's soul. It hadn't done that the first time around because Cas had rolled with the fall, landing on his back and shooting the thing right between the eyes and in the heart, killing it. This time he hadn't. He'd flailed on his back like a turtle, shooting the ceiling of the house they were in and the soul eater's shoulder.

He'd only managed to piss the creature off. The fact that he didn't have a soul only made the thing more furious. It tossed him across the room, and in the process he'd sprained his ankle.

Sam had killed the thing before anyone else was injured, but the damage had been done. Part of him was happy that Dean wasn't going to limp in this new future. That the yoga would be modified to accommodate his own injury instead of Dean's. Another part of him wondered if Dean had only settled down because of the injury.

"Okay, stop," Sam said when the car was within sight. Dean and Cas stopped and looked to Sam. "Your leg is moving... in a way it shouldn't."

Cas frowned at him, and as they stood there, Dean's eyes on Cas' leg and Sam's eyes locked with Cas', realization hit Sam. The blood drained from his face and his eyes widened. The injury Cas had told Sam about.

"C'mere," Sam said, walking up to Cas and tossing him over his shoulder.

"Sam, put me down," Cas said, but it was only a token complaint. His knee had been killing him. It wasn't as bad as the ache in his chest, but now that he was off the leg, he was relieved.

"It's just a sprain," Dean insisted as they walked to the car.

"No, it's not," Sam said.

"Oh, so you know what's wrong just by watching him walk?" Dean asked, defensive in a way that meant Dean was freaking out over the injury.

Sam gently set Cas in the back seat, then went around to the other side and climbed in the back with him. "Get us to the hospital," Sam said.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean said, poking his head into the car and gaping at Sam.

"No," Sam said, resting a hand on Cas' wrist in a comforting gesture.

Dean looked to Cas, brow furrowed with worry. "Okay, hospital it is."

*

Cas was shivering. They'd given him some pain killers, but it wasn't doing much. Once the adrenaline had worn off, he'd been hit with a ripping pain that had him panting. And when he thought of what had happened the first time around, when he thought of Dean experiencing that pain and walking around for a few days before Sam insisted on going to the emergency room, well, Cas was nearly in tears.

The pain was awful, and Dean would have known that it was a serious injury, but after spending all those years as Dean's husband, Cas had the experience to know Dean was scared out of his mind, hiding it, trying to ignore it in the hopes it would go away. But Dean had been in agony.

"Hey, you're gonna be okay," Dean said, giving him a smile as he put a hand on Cas' thigh.

Cas felt tears welling up in his eyes. He was scared about what had happened to him, scared about the surgery the doctor had said he needed, scared about how much he'd changed things, and every small movement sent pain flashing through his body, reminding him that Dean had experienced this, that Dean had silently suffered.

"Surgery's not as bad as it sounds," Dean said.

Cas felt exposed in his hospital gown, the sheet covering his lower body and the curtain separating him from the rest of the ER not nearly enough because he could hear people talking, crying, shouting, and he could hear beeps, clicks, and other sounds that meant he was just as human as the rest of the people there.

"It'll slow you down for a while," Dean said, thumb rubbing back and forth on Cas' thigh, "and you heard the doctor. He said you'll need some physical therapy afterward, but he had high hopes for you being back on your feet in no time."

Cas had been with Dean when Dean had been sitting in the emergency room, cold and scared and in pain. He'd seen the fear in Dean's eyes, feeling helpless himself when he couldn't make it all better for Dean.

"Hey," Dean said, leaning down so that his face was hovering over Cas', "you're gonna be okay. Just keep breathing."

Cas took a shuddering breath in, trying to focus on Dean as Dean's fingers carded through his hair, Dean's other hand resting on Cas' chest. He felt his bottom lip quivering, but he couldn't stop himself.

"C'mon, Cas," Dean said, voice going even softer as he put his lips to Cas' right ear. "Keep breathing. You're gonna be okay. Listen to my breathing and just do what I do."

Cas nodded, fisting the scratchy sheet that had been tossed over him. He tried to regulate his breathing, match it to Dean's, but when he felt tears running down the sides of his face and into his hair, his resolve broke. He sucked in some air, then held his breath.

"Don't hold your breath," Dean said, face hovering over Cas again. "If you've gotta cry some, just let it out. Holding it in is only gonna make it worse, and then you're gonna scare the shit out of the little kid next door who's getting a tetanus shot."

Cas let out a noise that was part sob and part laugh. It was a horrible noise, but the look on Dean's face made everything better, the fact that he was teasing Cas had eased the tension. Cas panted, lips curling up into a smile as he wiped at his face.

"I'm sorry," Cas said.

"Don't be," Dean said, patting his chest. "This is scary shit."

"I thought you said it wasn't bad," Cas accused, but he was smiling.

"I just said that so you'd stop crying like a girl," Dean said, grinning.

Cas let out another horribly loud laugh, but he was grateful because he wasn't nearly as upset as he'd been before Dean started teasing him. This Dean wasn't as good at it as _his_ Dean had been, but he'd get there. He'd learn the warning signs that would tell him Cas was heading for a panic attack, and he'd talk him down before things got bad.

Just like Cas learned to do for Dean when the life they'd made together, the house they lived in, and the job he worked at every day became claustrophobic. It didn't happen often, but Dean had grown up on the road, and even though he loved his life, it could get overwhelming at times.

"Dean?" Cas said.

"Yeah?" Dean replied, still giving him his full attention.

"What if I don't wake up?" Cas asked, forcing words out through a tight throat.

Dean paused a moment, and Cas could tell he was taken aback, the question not really all that Cas-like, at least as this Dean knew him.

"You're gonna wake up," Dean said, then yanked on a tuft of Cas' hair playfully. "I'll be waiting for you, so you'd better wake up, or I'm gonna storm the operating room and slap you upside the head until you do."

They wouldn't have been words of comfort to many people, but to Cas they were. It was obvious Dean was nervous about the whole thing, but he wasn't terrified, and Cas had learned a long time ago that a terrified Dean meant some bad shit was going to happen, but a nervous and concerned Dean meant things were probably going to be okay.

Dean straightened back up, and Cas gasped, reaching out and grabbing Dean's hand before it could leave his chest.

"Don't leave!" Cas said.

Dean gave him a little smile. "I'm not goin' anywhere. At least not until they make me go to the waiting room. And then I'll see you when you wake up."

"Okay," Cas said, but he didn't let go of Dean's hand.

He didn't even let go of Dean's hand when the doctor came back in, telling them that the OR was ready for him and to say goodbye.

"Nah," Dean said, shaking his head. "This isn't a goodbye. It's an I'll see ya later."

Cas forced a smile as Dean gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go. "See ya," he said.

"I'll be waiting for you," Dean said.

"Okay," Cas said.

He was scared as they wheeled him down the hallway, but he closed his eyes and imagined he was back in his home with Dean. They were sitting on the couch, laughing at a stupid comedy, eating pizza and wings, drinking beer, and Dean was holding him, casual touches that made Cas feel loved.

"Count down from one hundred, Mr. Winchester," the doctor said.

Cas fell asleep with a smile on his face, imagining Dean telling the staff that Cas' last name was Winchester. And it really was, even if Dean didn't know it yet.

*

"You have to go slow," Dean said, putting a hand on Cas' shoulder.

Cas let out a sigh. He'd been exercising his leg, now without a bandage and only a brace when he was out of bed. The leg lift machine in the physical therapy room was difficult, and he wanted to push through it, but Dean insisted he listen to the doctor. Tendon injuries weren't something to push too hard, even if it had been the recommended eight weeks since surgery.

But Cas was short on time. He knew what was coming. Dean didn't. And Cas hadn't told Sam yet either. Abaddon was going to start causing trouble, touching Dean, planning awful things, and Cas needed to be ready. It hadn't been fun for Cas to know that Abaddon had been so hands-on with Dean the first time around, but after being intimate with Dean for so long, he felt even more protective of him.

"I need to push through it," repeating the words Dean had said years ago when Sam had told him to take it slow.

"If you re-tear the tendon, you're gonna need surgery again," Dean warned. "Then you're gonna have to start over with the healing process."

Cas was frustrated, and in the years he'd been human, he'd come to terms with the fact that frustration meant emotion, and if he was pushed or let himself get even more upset, it meant an overload of emotion.

But Abaddon was coming. She wasn't going to wait for him to get better. Dean had pushed, so Cas could push too.

"I have to get better," Cas said, again quoting Dean. "I need to be able to fight."

"Fight what?" Dean said, crouching down in front of Cas. "We're laying low right now, so just focus on getting better, slowly building up the strength in your leg, and when you're ready, we'll get back to hunting."

"Leave me alone," Cas said through clenched teeth, then felt like shit when he saw the hurt in Dean's eyes.

"Okay, I'll wait in the car for you," Dean said as he gave him one last pat on his good leg and walked out.

Cas didn't want to be left alone. He wanted Dean there. He wanted Sam there. He wanted to be better. He wanted to kill Abaddon before she ever laid a finger on Dean.

"Ah!" Cas gasped as a flash of pain went up his leg, and suddenly he was terrified he'd re-injured his leg. But when he moved it again, gently lifting his leg with his hands, it was back to that low-level thrum of pain.

He flopped back against the machine, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing he was anywhere but lying helpless in a physical therapy room. His eyes burned, his chest ached, and his leg hurt all the time.

That fucking monster had wrapped its scaly fingers around his knee, tossing him like a rag doll. The same thing it had done to Dean, tearing the tendon almost clean through. The doctors had said it was a miracle Dean hadn't lost the ability to walk because he hadn't sought help immediately, continued using it until he was sweating and shivering, until Sam had nearly thrown him in the car.

Cas had grown to love being human, but that was in a world with nothing supernatural, nothing but other humans threatening the ones he loved. Sitting on the leg lift machine, feeling helpless and useless, he wanted his grace back so badly he burned inside. If he had it he could do something. If he had it he could heal his fucking leg.

If he had it he wouldn't be lying on his back in a physical therapy room, trying to keep the tears from falling. He knew where it was, but he also knew that getting his grace back early would change things more than he already had.

"C'mon, sit up," Dean said.

Cas flinched, startled because he thought Dean had gone out to the car. He looked up at Dean with wide eyes, relief flooding through him when he saw the determined expression on Dean's face. He hadn't realized how much he wanted Dean to stay, how much he wanted the support. But Dean came back in for him. He was there.

"C'mon," Dean repeated. "We're gonna go slow, but we're not gonna give up until you beg."

Cas took Dean's hand, letting him help as he sat up and got back into position to use the leg lift. A part of Cas wanted to tell Dean he didn't need help, he didn't need Dean to be his coach, but most of him soaked up the care and concern of his husband. Dean wasn't that man yet, but they'd get there.

"One more before you give it a ten-second rest," Dean said after Cas had done five reps.

Cas was a mess by the time he told Dean he'd had enough, sweating and muscles shaky, but Dean never told him to stop. He made sure Cas took it slow, made sure Cas didn't strain or push too hard, but he didn't stop him.

"You did good," Dean said, smiling at him as he helped him out to the car.

Cas slept hard that night, exhausted from the workout, but he was hopeful in a way he hadn't been for a few weeks.

*

"How much longer do I need to keep drinking this shit?" Sam asked, grimacing as he looked down at the concoction he'd been drinking for a few months.

"Three months," Cas said as he sat on the mat, pointing his toes, then relaxing over and over again, trying to strengthen his leg.

"It's terrible," Sam said, not complaining so much as just telling Cas in his own way that he was still thankful for the cure.

The cure that Cas shouldn't have given him. The one that meant Sam didn't almost die. The one that meant Gadreel would never be possessing Sam.

Sam wouldn't feel betrayed, wouldn't split up with Dean, wouldn't hold a grudge, wouldn't rely more on Cas for help than he should have. He might not even rely on Charlie as much. He might listen to Dean about not getting Charlie involved. Dean might not lose so much that he'd decide to summon Death.

"Did you do it on purpose?" Sam asked, lowering himself down onto another mat before sipping his shake.

Cas couldn't figure out what Sam meant, and he really hoped he hadn't been thinking out loud. "What?" he asked.

"Did you take the injury so Dean wouldn't have to?" Sam asked, gesturing to Cas' leg.

Cas sighed. "No," he admitted. "I thought about it, but I think it was part of the reason he settled down."

"If you didn't do it on purpose, then what happened?" Sam asked, politely ignoring the part where Cas may have fucked up their future.

"Living in my head changed more than just my personality," Cas said. "I don't know how to explain it, but I was out of practice. I hadn't hunted in years, hadn't had to shoot something while trying to get away from it at the same time. I missed those shots, but I didn't mean to."

Sam's eyes widened. "Out of practice?" he asked.

"Yes," Cas said, nodding.

"Cas, do you have any idea what that could mean?" Sam asked, a bit of excitement in his voice, though he was trying to keep himself calm.

"It means muscle memory isn't nearly as connected to the physical muscles as humans assume it is," Cas said, shrugging.

"Or," Sam prodded.

"Or what?"

"Cas, the first time around, did you get knocked unconscious in the witch's house?" Sam asked.

"Yes, she hit me, I went down, but I woke up when Dean shook me," Cas said.

"What if you really did live out those years and they weren't just in your head?" Sam said.

"I don't understand," Cas said, face screwing up in confusion.

"What if you hit some sort of time loop thing," Sam said, forgetting his shake and nearly dumping it onto the mat as he used his arms to gesture. "What if there was more to that spell than either of us realized and you just lived out the next few years, we all did, but then you got snapped back here after some sort of time limit or maybe something that she wanted you to see."

"If that's true," Cas said, "then Dean's going to leave me."

"No, no," Sam said, shaking his head. "Because you've been there. You know what went wrong. You can change it."

Cas sighed, remembering how happy they'd been, and how devastating it was when all they'd had was destroyed in just a few months. "Everything changed near the end. We were so happy, so in love, and then, I don't know. Suddenly I was seeing everything through Dean's eyes, and that's when things went bad."

"Wait, you never said that part before," Sam said, nose scrunching up. "You were living Dean's life?"

"No," Cas said, shaking his head. "It was more like I was still me, but I felt everything Dean was feeling, and I saw everything from his point of view."

"That kinda blows my newest theory," Sam said. "But how's that possible? How could you be seeing things from his point of view, even if it was a fantasy world made up for you?"

"I'm not sure," Cas said. "But the more time I spend here in the real world, the more I doubt myself, the more I wonder if we were ever going to be happy together long-term. Or maybe I was finally realizing the whole thing was just a fantasy."

"Or Dean got to you first out here in the real world," Sam said, shrugging. "He was touching you to check for injuries, talking to you, trying to get you to wake up. Maybe you started seeing things through his eyes because he was breaking you out of that world and you were fighting it. He was the villain for just a few moments, and in your head it was months."

"Even so," Cas said, feeling lost, "I don't know what to do. I've changed so much, things I shouldn't have."

"Like what?" Sam asked. "I thought you said we're still basically on the same path other than your injury."

"We are," Cas lied. Telling Sam what Dean had done the first time around wasn't an option. He couldn't do that to them. "Even with my injury. The only difference has been Dean's pushing me through physical therapy. In my head Dean did most of it himself."

"So you're worried you're getting too close to him too fast," Sam said, lips thinning and brow furrowing.

"He's already more comfortable touching me," Cas said. "That didn't happen until we'd been sleeping in the same bed for almost three months because of my nightmares."

"Without telling me in great detail," Sam said, wincing, "what was the next step? What got you guys moving from platonic to sexual? Maybe you can just put that off longer."

"You know Dean," Cas said, smiling sadly. "And I think you know the answer to that just like you did in my head."

"You did something human," Sam said, "freaked yourself out, and he didn't want you to feel funny about it, so he was his charming self and was a dork so you wouldn't feel like you were alone."

Cas' smile grew bigger. "Morning erections aren't controllable when you're human."

Sam chuckled. "Okay, well, I guess you'll just have to hope that if it does happen ahead of schedule, he doesn't freak out."

"Who's freaking out?" Dean asked from the doorway.

Cas let out a squeak, then blushed, and when Dean grinned at him, he only blushed harder, the tips of his ears feeling hot.

"Cas is freaking out because he's starving to death," Sam said, giving Cas a wink. "He's been in here working hard and you haven't made him breakfast!"

"What would you like, Cas?" Dean asked.

Cas could've answered him a million different ways, but all he said was, "Eggs. I like your eggs."

"I can do that," Dean said, giving Cas a blindingly adorable smile before turning to Sam. "Help him up, get him to the kitchen, and I'll make enough eggs to fill up all three of us."

"Okay," Sam said, getting himself up as Dean walked away. He held a hand out to Cas, then pulled him up. "It's gonna be okay, Cas."

Cas smiled, letting Sam help him to the kitchen without saying another word.

*

It was three o'clock in the morning and Cas couldn't sleep. He was fighting a losing battle because he really, really wanted to slip into Dean's bed, let Dean vanquish any fears and bad dreams. But something else Cas had learned while being human was guilt. He'd already changed so much, and it felt too good to let Dean hold him. He didn't know how many more times he could feel Dean's arms wrapped around him, smell him, snuggle into his warmth before he fucked everything up.

It wasn't that Cas had been some helpless thing. He'd been a very powerful creature for so long that nine years should have been nothing to him. But he loved being human. He'd settled right in, wrapped himself up in it, and wallowed.

He'd let Dean in, surrounded himself with Dean and made a life with him. At one time he'd been something to fear, something that would have sent most creatures and humans running, but just a few years as a human had made him soft in a way that made him blush if he thought about it too much.

His heart was racing, a sheen of sweat on his body making his sleep pants stick uncomfortably. His balls felt too warm, his skin was itchy, and even the skin between his toes felt hot.

Cas pulled himself out of bed and wandered down the hallway toward Dean's room, but stood in the doorway instead of going in. Dean didn't close his door anymore. Not after the first time he found Cas on his floor in the middle of the night.

"Stop hovering," Dean said from the bed.

Cas smiled, unable to help himself as his feet seemed to decide for him and take him to Dean's bed. Dean was already holding the blanket up, had already scooted to the far side of the bed, leaving a spot just for Cas.

"C'mon," Dean said, voice deep and rough in a way that said he had been sleeping until he felt Cas in his space.

"Sorry," Cas said as he snuggled up behind Dean in the bed.

"G'sleep," Dean mumbled.

Dean had already told him not to apologize the first two times he'd slept in Dean's bed, but Cas couldn't help but feel a little guilty, especially because he knew what Dean didn't. He knew what this would lead to.

He stared at the back of Dean's head, sharing the pillow even though he had his own pillow back in his bedroom. Dean reached back and grabbed Cas' right wrist, tossing it over Dean's own side and leaving his hand draped over Cas'.

Cas' smile grew, but he closed his eyes, moving his head just a little closer to Dean so he could smell Dean's shampoo. It wasn't anything special, but it was Dean.

*

"Stop!" Cas said, holding his hands out. 

Abaddon chuckled. "Aww, you think that's really going to stop me?" she said, then twisted his leg, her inhumanly strong hand wrapped around his bad knee.

He screamed, writhing on the pavement outside the diner. It hurt more than when he'd injured it the first time. It hurt more than hitting his head on a rock. He screamed so hard he lost his breath, panicked for a moment, worried he'd never breathe again, then finally sucked in air as she twisted more, his tibia and fibula separating from his femur as if there was nothing holding them together, like his kneecap and all those muscles and tendons were strands of cotton candy.

Castiel needed his grace. He needed to stop everything he'd fucked up, but they were nowhere near the library. Abaddon hadn't touched him the first time around. She'd gone after Dean. And even though it had terrified Cas to watch Dean getting manhandled by her, he knew she wouldn't get the chance to actually follow through on her threats this time around.

But she'd caught him. She'd found him before she found Dean, and she'd used it to her advantage. It was Cas' fault. And as he lay on the pavement, the stones scraping his skin and ruining his clothing, he knew he couldn't go on like this. As much as he wanted Dean, he'd already fucked up too much. If he survived whatever Abaddon had planned for him, he had to find his grace. If Dean never decided to become more than family to Cas, at least they'd all be alive for it.

"Dean, you silly little boy!" Abaddon cackled as she dropped Cas' leg, a sickening thud he'd never forget reverberating through him as his leg hit the pavement.

"Leave him alone," Dean said, eyes wide and jaw clenched so tightly that Cas was surprised they'd understood his words.

But it was too much for Cas' human body to take, and shock set in. He couldn't hear much of the conversation, wasn't able to see what she did to Dean, but soon Sam and Dean were lifting him onto a blanket and carrying him to the car.

Dean insisted on getting into the back seat with him, wouldn't even let go of him long enough to give Sam the keys, forcing Sam to climb halfway into the back seat and fish them out of Dean's jeans pocket. Sam took off, babbling something about a hospital.

"No," Cas said.

"Yes, we're going to a hospital," Dean said.

"Sam, no," Cas said, wincing as they went through an intersection, the car bouncing, pain shooting through his body. "You have to trust me. You can't take me to the hospital. You have to take me someplace else."

"Cas...," Sam said, ready to lecture Cas on the importance of a hospital when his leg looked like mush.

"Sam, please," Cas said, knowing it would get through to Sam. "I need you to do this so I can make things right."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean said. "Sam, what's he talking about?"

Sam let out a sigh. "Where to, Cas?"

Cas nearly cried with relief.

*

The whole thing was anticlimactic. Sure, Dean and Sam congratulated him on finding his grace, Dean tried to drag answers out of him, and Sam ended up lying to Dean, telling his brother he'd heard it from the idiots who had cornered him in the diner. The same idiots who would have killed Sam had it not been for Abaddon telling them they could tease but not touch.

Cas went back to the bunker with them, quiet as he sat in the back seat. Sam kept turning his head just a bit to look at him, and Cas knew just what was going through Sam's head. It was the same thing that was going through Cas' head.

He'd traded his possible future with Dean because of human weakness. He'd changed things that shouldn't have been changed long before he asked Sam to drive him to the library. And when it came right down to it, Cas had been scared and in pain. Scared that his body had been broken, scared that Dean was left open and vulnerable in a setting where Cas had changed things, and those changes meant all bets were off.

Cas couldn't leave the bunker. He stayed in his room all night, then all day, door locked as he sat on the bed. Everything felt different. He wasn't as scared. He wasn't back to full power, and he wasn't sure how long it would take for his damaged wings to repair themselves, but he'd been able to heal his vessel.

Sam and Dean had both tried to get him to come out of the room, but he'd told them he was fine and just needed some time alone. Sam had tried seven times, but Dean only once, and that was nearly eight hours ago.

Cas wasn't sulking. At least that's what he told himself. He hadn't experienced his grace, the power of it in years, but instead of using it, enjoying it, he was sitting on his bed in nothing but his pajama pants, running through various scenarios, trying to figure out what he should have done, what he should do in the future, and pushing all thoughts of what he'd done to his relationship with Dean out of his head.

"Cas," Dean said from the door. This was attempt number two. Sam hadn't tried in at least three hours.

Cas sighed, leaning against the head of his bed. Even though he had his grace back, he'd been human too long. Desires and emotions and other things that just weren't logical took precedent over what he knew he should do. He wanted Dean. He wanted to hold him, to be held, and he wanted to fix it all, force The Darkness to hurry the fuck up and come already so he could have his future, because as much as he told himself he'd fucked it up, his stupidly emotional heart that had somehow grown while he'd been human was insisting he could still have Dean, could still have his husband. He _wanted_ to let Dean in.

"I brought you some burgers," Dean said. "I know you don't need them, but... Cas, would you just open the fuckin' door?"

Dean fell in, stumbling and catching himself as suddenly the door was open, nothing keeping him out. Dean frowned at him. "I'll let you get away with that because you look like shit."

Cas' eyes tracked Dean as he set the plate down on the end of the bed, two burgers just the way Cas liked them along with some potato chips adorning the plate. And Cas didn't need them, Dean was right, but he wanted.

"Sam told me to leave you alone," Dean said, then smirked. "But I didn't listen."

Cas leaned forward and grabbed the plate. "Thank you," he said, picking up a burger and taking a big bite.

He closed his eyes, moaning at the taste. He knew now that being human was all about the senses, and even though he had his grace back, he pushed it down until he could enjoy everything through his vessel. It felt good. Like a band-aid on a gaping wound.

"So are you okay?" Dean asked, stance practically screaming awkward.

But it was charming, because Cas knew Dean better than he did nine years ago. He knew Dean wanted to fix whatever was wrong and hold him and make Cas feel better. He knew Dean would get pissed if he said anything about it, but that if he asked Dean to stay, he would.

"I have my grace back," Cas said, not really answering the question.

"Yeah, I kinda noticed that," Dean said. "I also noticed you didn't fly off and leave us for someplace more exciting."

Dean was fishing. It was adorable and sweet and more like Cas' husband than Cas had seen in weeks.

"I can't fly," Cas said.

Dean's face screwed up in confusion. "But I thought...," he started.

"They're damaged," Cas said, interrupting him.

"Oh," Dean said, shoulders dropping a little as he winced. "Is there anything we can do about it?"

"Give them time to heal," Cas said, then took another bite of his burger.

"Does it hurt?" Dean asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

It was a posture Cas had become very familiar with. It meant Dean was upset and worried, that he wanted to have something to do, some way of making everything right, but he felt useless, powerless. Cas knew how that felt.

"It does," Cas said with a nod. "But not nearly as much as having my leg twisted apart."

Cas wished he could take it back as soon as the words were out there. Dean looked devastated.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Dean said.

"It's not your fault," Cas said.

"It kinda is," Dean said.

"No, it really isn't."

Dean frowned, then walked to the small desk in Cas' room, pulling out the chair and straddling it, facing Cas. "Yeah, it is. She knows how much you and Sam mean to me. She knew she could use it against me. She probably thought it would scare me into leaving her alone, letting her do whatever the fuck she wants as long as she left you alone."

"Did it work?" Cas asked.

Dean let out a humorless chuckle as he shook his head. "Fuck, no. I wanna hurt her. I wanna stop her. I wanna make her scream in pain for what she did to you."

This was it. This was how Cas could fix things. Well, maybe not fix things between him and Dean, but this is how he could make up for saving Sam, saving Kevin, and for being selfish and human.

"You can't," Cas said, already knowing Dean could.

"I'm gonna find out how," Dean said. "I'm gonna find a way. There's gotta be. And I'm gonna do it. You've known me long enough you should know if there's a way, I'll find it."

"Okay," Cas said, giving in easily, a little bit of a shrug.

"I _will_ ," Dean insisted.

Cas managed to keep the smile from his face. He didn't usually manipulate Dean, but it was for a good cause, and this Dean didn't know how well Castiel knew him. Not really. They'd been together as a couple about three years when Cas finally explained to him exactly what he could see of Dean when he'd pulled him from Hell. It was everything. Everything.

"Okay," Cas said, adding a nod to placate Dean.

Dean nodded back at him, a definitive motion that was an end to that particular part of the conversation. "So why are you sulking in here?"

"I don't have anywhere to go," Cas said, and he really hadn't meant to sound so pathetic. "I can't fly, and this is my room."

Dean let out a chuckle, that look on his face that said he thought Cas was being a dork without realizing it. "Okay, well, if you need anything, I'm right down the hall."

Cas didn't know his stomach could feel as if there were butterflies fluttering around in there when he had his grace. He hadn't experienced it until Dean had started really flirting with him years ago. But what Dean had just said, well, that was an offer, an invitation. Dean didn't throw things out there casually, and as flippant as he'd tried to be, Cas picked up on it.

"Night, Cas," Dean said as he stood up.

"G'night, Dean," Cas said, earning him a bit of a pause from Dean, but then Dean was leaving him alone.

Even with the door closed, he could hear Dean getting ready for bed and finally settling in. He knew what was coming next and palmed his crotch as Dean let out a breathy moan.

If Cas couldn't be in the room while Dean was jerking off, at least he had his grace back and could eavesdrop. The guilt he'd developed as a human didn't flare because he was listening in on his husband. There was no shame in that.

Cas knew Dean better than he knew himself, so he wasn't expecting Dean to come with Cas' name on his lips. Dean tended to be clueless until someone showed obvious interest or Dean was actively pursuing them. And this Dean hadn't even considered the possibility of them together yet. But that was okay. Cas could just listen.

"Mmm, yeah," Dean whispered as he tugged on his cock, spreading his legs and shifting some on the bed.

Cas reached into his own pajama pants and wrapped his hand around his erection. Dean didn't take long to come when he was just getting himself off. There was no need to draw it out. Cas couldn't hear Dean rolling his balls in his left hand, but he knew that's what Dean was doing. He knew exactly what Dean looked like, that he was biting his bottom lip in between breathy moans and whispered words. He knew Dean was clenching his ass every time he ran a thumb over the tip of his dick, spreading the moisture and making it easier to jerk off.

Cas stroked himself in time with Dean, not bothering to play with his own balls. Not that he didn't like it, but there was no reason to. He was focused on Dean.

Dean hissed, making Cas shiver with anticipation. Dean was close, and Cas could force his vessel to come at any time, so he was ready when Dean's breathing stuttered, but Cas still waited.

"Ah, fuck," Dean said as he panted, then lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked his fingers and palm clean.

That's when Cas came. He loved watching Dean lick himself clean. He'd been waiting for it, didn't even need to force his vessel to come as Dean let out a moan around his fingers, as if his mouth was full but he just couldn't keep quiet.

Dean panted, and Cas panted along with him, coming down and catching his breath while Dean wiped his wet hand on his T-shirt and got into a more comfortable position, pulling the covers up.

Cas didn't have all of his powers at his fingertips, but he didn't feel like getting up, so he cleaned his vessel, giving Dean a few minutes to drift off before he got up and padded down the hallway.

Dean was already sleeping, but when Cas opened the door, he suddenly wondered if he was pushing too hard. Sure, Dean had offered, but Dean was easily spooked.

And now that he had his grace back, he could tell his presence in the room was enough to pull Dean from sleep.

"Get your feathery ass over here," Dean said, words not all that clear because his face was smashed into the pillow.

Cas grinned as he climbed into bed, keeping more distance between them than he wanted, but just happy he was invited. He didn't sleep. He didn't need to. Instead he just breathed in the scent of Dean, listened to him softly snoring, enjoyed the way the bed moved as Dean changed position throughout the night, and smiled when Dean's morning erection poked him in the stomach.

*

"Rise and shine," Dean said, smacking Cas on the ass.

Cas flinched, opening his eyes. He'd fallen asleep. He hadn't meant to, and he realized his grace was more damaged than he initially assumed. At least he felt better after resting.

"Want some eggs?" Dean asked as he pushed his pajama pants off, his shirt already off and unabashedly naked as he walked to the dresser and pulled out a fresh set of jeans and a T-shirt.

Cas couldn't tear his eyes away from Dean's ass and legs. He wanted to touch, to hold. "Yes," he answered, forcing the blush away as Dean turned and caught him looking.

"What else do you want?" Dean asked, a ridiculously charming smile on his face.

Cas stared at him, not quite sure what to say, because Dean Fucking Winchester was flirting with him. The guy who was clueless and needed to be smacked in the face by anyone who was interested in him. The guy who had let Cas make the first move years ago. The guy who was standing there naked, T-shirt and jeans in his right hand, giving Cas a full frontal.

"Uh, want?" Cas said, feeling off center and really fucking unsure of himself.

"Yeah," Dean said with a nod. "What else do you want? You know, to eat."

Cas figured 'your cock' wasn't the correct response, but Dean was practically begging for that answer. "Bacon?" he said.

Something in Dean's expression changed a little. It wasn't much, but Cas knew him well enough to recognize the doubt in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, to let him know that he wanted what Dean was offering more than anything, but Dean had already changed from flirtatious to something resembling business-like.

"Sam picked up some fruit yesterday too," Dean said, tossing the T-shirt onto the bed before stepping into his jeans and pulling them on, going commando. "You want some pineapple or strawberries?"

"S-strawberries," Cas said, flustered by the sudden change and the knowledge that he was the one who had brought it about.

"Okay, well, let's get to the kitchen before Sam eats all the fruit," Dean said, then pulled the shirt on over his head and walked out the door, leaving Cas staring after him.

Cas wasn't sure what to make of what had just happened. He wanted Dean so badly, wanted all the things he changed to mean nothing, and he wanted Dean to want him. He wanted it so much that he could have merely imagined Dean was flirting with him when he really wasn't. Dean had always been comfortable around him. It was like Cas had permission to see every part of him, not only because Cas wasn't a human, but because he knew Cas wouldn't judge, wouldn't hold him to the standards a human would.

"You built me this body," Dean had said. "Anything I could hide from you, you've already seen and touched."

Cas had assumed Dean only felt that way after Cas had explained exactly what had happened when he'd fought his way to Dean in Hell, but maybe he'd always felt that way.

He stood up and headed for the kitchen, not bothering to change his clothes or do anything with his hair. Dean always liked it all messy anyway.

*

Another successful hunt, but no new information on Abaddon or what she was planning. Cas knew, of course, but Dean and Sam were mostly lost. Burning a patch of kriglings on a farm was messy, and the smell was enough to banish the thought of food anytime soon, so Dean had driven them to a secluded area after picking up some beer.

"Here," Dean said, handing first Sam a beer, then Cas.

Cas didn't need it, but he wanted it. The three of them lowered themselves onto the soft grass, only a few yards from the tree line, Sam lying flat on his back while Dean and Cas sat cross-legged a few feet away from each other.

None of them had gotten hurt, and even though it had been smelly and loud, what with the screaming, it was refreshing. Dean always looked more alive after a hunt, and Sam would be exhausted, but he would feel like he'd accomplished some good. All in all, they were relaxed and content.

"I'm in the mood for pizza," Dean said after a long silence.

"Sounds good to me," Sam said after taking another sip of beer.

"You feel like helping me make pizza, Cas?" Dean asked, looking to Cas.

Cas couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face. "Yes, I'd like that."

"Cool," Dean said, nodding. "We'll make an all-spinach and tomato pizza for Sam."

"Tease me as much as you want," Sam grumbled, "but I _do_ like meat."

Dean chuckled. "You like meat too, Cas?" he asked, smirking.

And it wasn't the words. It wasn't even the smirk. It was the way Dean asked that had Cas' cock twitching in his uncomfortable slacks. Yes, that was definitely flirting.

He wasn't going to give Dean a chance to misconstrue his response a second time. "I like _your_ meat," he said, feigning innocence when Sam choked on his sip of beer and Dean started laughing so hard he nearly fell over backward.

"You like a lot of meat?" Dean asked, shoulders shaking with amusement.

"Yours is adequate," Cas said, wondering just how far he could take it.

Dean laughed again as Sam finished his beer and stood up, dusting the blades of grass from his jeans.

"Okay," Sam said with a sigh, "I'm ready to be somewhere this conversation isn't happening."

Sam was teasing. He wasn't really upset with the way the conversation had gone, but it was enough to get Dean chuckling.

"Help me up," Dean said, holding a hand out to Sam.

Sam hefted him up, then shoved him playfully. "I want bacon on mine. And lots of cheese."

Dean held out his hand for Cas, helping him up too. "He's so easy to get," he stage-whispered to Cas.

Cas wasn't able to wipe the smile off his face until well after they'd gotten back to the bunker.

*

Dean wasn't a neat chef. He always made a mess, and usually had at least one ingredient on his clothes or skin. The sauce on Dean's neck was really distracting. Just a little spot. As if Dean had put his left hand into the sauce without realizing it and then touched his neck.

Cas wanted to lick it off. That desire didn't fade even as they all sat on bar stools in the kitchen and finished their pizzas.

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said, then yawned. "I'll clean up. You can head to bed."

Dean shook his head. "Nah, I'll clean up."

"You always clean up," Sam said, a token protest. His eyelids were already drooping and his cheeks were tinged pink, which always happened when Sam was overtired.

"Yup," Dean said as he stood up, "and I'm gonna do it again. Cas'll help me clean up. Go to bed before you fall over."

Sam shrugged. "Okay. Thanks. G'night."

"Night, Sammy," Dean said as Sam headed for his room.

Cas reached for another piece of pizza, ducking his head a little when Dean smirked at him.

"You're gonna have to use your angel mojo to keep from exploding," Dean said as he grabbed the dirty dishes from the steel counter and walked to the sink, filling it with water.

"It's worth it," Cas said.

"So what was your favorite topping?" Dean asked.

Cas was thrown for a moment. He'd forgotten again that this wasn't his husband. They were having so much fun it had slipped his mind. His husband knew what his favorite topping was.

"The pineapple pieces," Cas said with a mouthful of pizza.

Dean squeezed some dish washing liquid into the water and left it running as he put the bottle away and picked up a bowl, heading toward Cas. "Here, this dish needs to be washed, and there's only a few left," he said as he held a piece of pineapple up to Cas' lips.

Cas stared at him for a moment. He'd told Dean a long time ago, promised him that he wouldn't invade his mind, but he really wanted to break that promise. Was this a clueless Dean just having fun with his friend?

"Open up," Dean said, waving the pineapple around.

Cas opened his mouth and Dean pushed the pineapple in, fingers brushing against Cas' lips. Castiel, even with his grace back and all the knowledge of millennia, forgot to chew.

"Dude!" Dean said as he thumped on Cas' back while Cas sputtered and coughed.

As soon as Cas remembered he wasn't human, he fixed his vessel's breathing problem, making sure to get rid of the blush on his cheeks too.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Cas said. "It's difficult getting used to my grace. Sometimes I forget how much of it to use when it's damaged and I let it relax and recover."

"What, like you put it on the back burner?" Dean asked, confused.

"Something like that," Cas said, nodding.

"So you're feeling everything your vessel feels for the most part?" Dean asked.

"If I push my grace back," Cas said. "I've only let a small portion come forward, and I'm not using it to do a lot of the things I'd normally use it for."

Dean looked at him with wounded eyes. Eyes that said he wished he could make it all better for Cas. "Sorry, Cas."

"I'll be okay," Cas said, knowing he would. He had no doubt. Everything would be okay. They might not go the way he wanted them to, but as long as they released The Darkness, things would be okay.

"Want any more?" Dean asked, holding up another piece of pineapple. Cas answered by opening his mouth, and Dean chuckled. "Don't choke on this one, okay?"

"Okay," Cas agreed as Dean pushed the fruit in, making the word he'd spoken turn into something that sounded like a drunk attempting conversation.

Cas looked Dean in the eye as the man ran his thumb over Cas' lower lip. But before he could question Dean or figure out what the Hell was going on, Dean was holding up the last piece of pineapple. Cas took it, then flinched as Dean playfully smacked his arm.

"Come help me with the dishes," Dean said. "I'll wash. You dry."

Cas felt a little shaky as he walked to the sink, unsure of himself. He was thrilled to be with this man who felt more like his husband than he did old Dean, but he was also worried it could be taken away from him if he slipped up and got too comfortable.

He wanted to talk to Sam. Sam had been so wiped out, but he was also the one with the best advice, and also the one who knew what had really happened to Cas.

"Hey, so, instead of waiting until I'm almost asleep," Dean said, nudging Cas with his elbow, "how about you just crash with me?"

Old Cas wouldn't have understood the reference, but he didn't feel like faking it anymore. Not after he'd seen that glimpse of his husband, and not when he felt so close to Dean. _His_ Dean.

"Okay," he said, hands trembling just a bit.

Dean smiled, and Cas couldn't wipe the dreamy grin off his face as they finished up the dishes and headed for Dean's room.

"Here," Dean said, tossing a pair of his own sleep pants at Cas.

Cas caught them, letting out a huff when he saw they were blue with tiny white clouds all over them.

"Sam got 'em for me," Dean said, shrugging. "I've never worn them, but think of it as something you can dream about, and something you can do when you're up to it again."

Cas didn't know what to say. He wondered if a human might be hurt by the words. He couldn't fly in the clouds, at least not until his wings were healed. But Dean didn't say it to hurt. He said 'when' not 'if' he was up to it again.

Dean had said it with that casual tone of voice. The same tone of voice he'd used when Cas had admitted to backing the Impala into the side of the garage, crushing the tail light. Something serious had happened, something that Dean wasn't all that happy with, but it wasn't so serious that Dean viewed it as a deal breaker.

"You're gonna fix it," Dean had said, nudging him with his elbow.

Cas had been so worried Dean would be mad, maybe even forbid him from ever touching the car again, but Dean had kept it light and they'd spent the weekend fixing it together.

Dean had faith in Cas. He was holding a stupid pair of sleep pants with dorky little clouds all over them, but it meant so much more. It meant _his_ Dean was closer than he could've hoped.

"You're not shy, are you?" Dean asked, already naked and pulling his own sleep pants on.

"Uhm, no," Cas said, setting the soft pants down on the bed before stripping out of his clothes. He folded everything and set them neatly on the dresser, remembering how many times Dean had complained about Cas leaving his clothes everywhere.

Dean was already in bed by the time Cas got into the sleep pants, and as Cas climbed in, Dean turned the light off. Cas pulled his grace back as far as possible, basking in the warmth and smells of being so close to Dean.

"You'll be okay, Cas," Dean said, his back to Cas. It wasn't just a reassurance. It was Dean promising in his own way.

Dean always pulled through in the end. Both he and Sam did. It might not have been what everyone could've hoped for, but things worked out.

"I know," Cas said.

*

Sam smiled, a fond expression on his face as he watched Cas using the tip of his tongue to catch the stray dribbles of chocolate ice cream before they managed to slip off his cone.

Dean was up at the counter ordering another one because Cas couldn't decide if he wanted chocolate-chocolate chip or cheesecake with chocolate chips. Dean suggested both, and Cas wasn't going to argue.

Sam was sitting across from him at a table near the corner of the ice cream shop, and even though there were a few families in the shop, it was fairly quiet and subdued. Sam munched on a piece of his waffle cone, and Cas just knew he was working up a question. He could tell by the look on his face.

"So why do you still need to eat?" Sam asked before licking at his sweet cream ice cream again.

Cas glanced over to where Dean was holding his hands up, showing the girl behind the counter that he wanted a really, really big scoop of ice cream, not just the small one.

"I like feeling things," Cas said. "The time I spent as a human with Dean were the best years of my life. Ice cream is a small pleasure that just doesn't mean anything when my grace is caring for the vessel."

"So you've been pushing it back?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Cas said.

"No, the really big one," Dean said from the counter, pointing at the waffle cones to the girl's left.

Cas couldn't help but smile. "I like eating. I like focusing on the little things. When my grace is simply caring for the vessel, everything the body experiences is dulled and unnecessary. With my grace I hear everything for hundreds of miles, see everything, smell everything. The world is narrowed down when I push my grace back. It's not always a good thing, because I can get hurt, I can taste things I don't like or smell something disgusting, but overall I want those things."

"What's it like pushing the grace back?" Sam asked.

"I explained it to Dean once as being close to a fire," Cas said. "You put your hand in it, it burns, but pull back and the effects of the flame simply warm you. Pull back more and you won't feel it at all. My grace is the opposite of a flame in the simplest terms."

"Cheesecake chocolate chip," Dean said, holding the cone out to Cas, his own dish of apple pie in sweet cream waiting for him on the table.

"Thank you," Cas said, taking his cone as Dean sat down and started in on his own treat.

"So the thing with five tails," Dean said with a mouthful of ice cream. "Fire kills it?"

Cas shook his head even though he knew Dean was teasing. "No. Water kills it." He hadn't realized it when he first knew Dean, but the man loved to feign ignorance, thinking it funny when Sam got pissed over it. Over the years, Cas had grown to enjoy it as yet another aspect of the man he loved.

"Gotcha," Dean said, grinning when Sam just sighed. "Can I use a hatchet on it?"

"Dean," Sam said, shoulders dropping and his lips thinning in annoyance, "didn't you listen to anything he said in the car?"

"Of course I did," Dean said, smirking. "He said you wish you could wear suspenders without looking completely ridiculous."

Sam glared at him. "It's for the hunt," he said, cheeks turning just a little pink as he fingered the left strap of his suspenders.

"Well you look adorable," Dean said as he reached out and pulled back on the strap Sam wasn't fiddling with. He let go, chuckling when Sam let out an indignant yelp of pain. "I'm serious. You look adorable and that hot librarian is gonna be totally distracted by you while me and Cas burn the grizzly fucker."

"Graat'Zel Fahker," Cas said for what seemed like the hundredth time. He wasn't really annoyed. In fact he thought Dean's version sounded better. It certainly suited the disgusting little beast. Another hunter had taken care of the thing last time, and nothing had gone wrong, so even though it wasn't a hunt they'd gone on in Cas' head, he wasn't worried about it. "And water kills it."

Dean patted Cas' knee. "Water. Gotcha."

Sam hid his smile with his own ice cream cone.

*

The Belmont Public Library in Massachusetts was quiet. It was nearly closing time and a holiday weekend. There weren't many people, which made it easier to keep the public safe and also kill the creature without anyone seeing them do it.

Cas and Dean waited until Sam had the librarian distracted with his charming little-boy-lost smile and enthusiastic interest in the history of the town.

"Okay, that's fuckin' creepy," Dean said as they walked into the Claflin Room. "Who the fuck puts a giant dining room set in the middle of a library? And a fuckin' mannequin?" he asked, pointing at said creepy mannequin. It was a little odd. Okay, it was a lot odd, but Cas wasn't consulted on the decorations.

Cas ignored Dean's griping, and instead focused on the singed corner of the rug just in front of a display cabinet meant to inform visitors about the town's farms and history.

"Display case," Cas whispered.

Dean was already in hunter mode, eyes taking in every detail of the room, but Cas' words had shut Dean's mouth. They were both carrying tanks of water with a hose in one hand and the wand attached to the hose in the other. Dean had a few knives on him and a gun tucked in the back of his jeans, but all Cas had concealed was a knife in a holster around his ankle.

"One," Dean mouthed as he walked up to the display cabinet. He nodded his head two more times, then opened the cabinet.

Everything happened so fast. Cas' eyes hadn't even adjusted to the darkness of the cabinet's interior when there was a flash of fire, like someone was standing inside the cabinet with a fucking flamethrower. He heard Dean scream, and he watched in horror as Dean fell to the floor, shirt and jacket on fire, already spreading to his jeans.

Dean rolled away, but the creature was scared and fighting, fire still practically spraying out in an arc at Dean. Cas aimed his wand and sprayed into the cabinet, a screech loud enough to make his ears hurt coming from the creature just before the thing melted, reminding Cas of the wicked witch from Wizard of Oz.

Cas dropped the tank and turned to Dean, yanking his jacket off and covering him to smother the flames, but it wasn't until he pulled the jacket away, his husband's face badly burned and his shirt melted to his skin that Cas remembered his own grace.

He'd completely forgotten. He'd shoved it back, letting himself forget about it so he could enjoy pretending to be a human, and he hadn't been there for Dean. He could have stopped the flame from ever touching Dean if he hadn't been running around as if he were one of the guys.

"Cas," Dean whimpered, looking up at Cas with desperation in his eyes. His body was trembling, going into shock, his mouth hanging open on what could've been a silent scream of horrific pain. The smell of burned flesh filled the room as Dean gasped and choked on his own charred throat and mouth.

Cas reached out, putting his hands on Dean, one on his chest and one on the top of his head, and within the blink of an eye Dean was healed.

Dean gasped again, this time for a completely different reason, reaching up to touch his own face, his own chest, the pain and desperation in his eyes replaced by relief and gratitude. Gratitude Cas didn't deserve.

"Cas!" Dean said, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around Cas. He was shaking, thankful to be alive, in no pain.

Cas held him tightly, closing his eyes as he used his grace to check Dean over for any damage, pushing through Dean's entire body just to make sure. Dean was fine other than an elevated heart rate, but the smell of burned flesh was still heavy in the room. It was making Cas sick, and he couldn't imagine what it was doing to Dean. That was the smell of his own cooked flesh.

"C'mon," Dean said, standing up without really letting go of Cas, left arm wrapped around Cas' middle. "Let's get outta here before somebody comes to see what all the noise was about."

Cas refused to let go of Dean, his right arm up around Dean's shoulders, and Dean didn't seem all that ready to break contact either. By the time they made it to the car, they both collapsed into the back seat. They hadn't bothered to bring the water tanks. Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket, but instead of using it, he just sat there staring at it.

"Uhm, guess you didn't heal my phone," he said, eyes glued to the mass of plastic, metal, and glass that had once been a working phone.

Cas took the phone from Dean and tossed it onto the front seat before wrapping his arms around Dean once more, pushing his face into the crease between Dean's neck and shoulder. Dean didn't push him away. Instead he sighed, resting his chin on Cas' head. Cas finally reached into his own pocket and sent a quick message to Sam on his cell phone. The one Dean had given him when he was human.

"I'm sorry," Cas said.

"It's not your fault, Cas," Dean said. "You saved me."

"You wouldn't have needed saving if I'd...," Cas said, but he couldn't even finish the sentence. He didn't want to admit he'd been so focused on wallowing in the human experience that Dean had almost died.

"It's okay," Dean said, rubbing a hand over Cas' back. "I get it."

Cas let out a huff. It wasn't funny.

"I _do_ get it," Dean insisted. "People underestimate me. It's part of the reason why I'm so good at what I do. I know what you were doing and I get it. So don't go blaming yourself for wanting to feel good. I'd hate for you to miss out on more cheesecake ice cream."

Cas pulled back, looking Dean in the eye, confused as to why Dean wasn't upset, why he was brushing it off like it was nothing. "You almost died. The pain you experienced...," he said, shaking his head, stomach clenching.

"It was temporary," Dean said, shrugging. "It hurt like a motherfucker, but if you had really been human, I'd be dead. You saved me. And if you want to shove your grace into a box so you can experience life and only take it out when you need it, I say do it. Life isn't worth living if you can't enjoy at least one thing."

Cas gaped at him, mouth working soundlessly. How could Dean have said that? How could the pain he'd just felt have been worth Cas flitting around like an idiot who just wanted to be a real boy?

But Dean wasn't upset. He wasn't mad. His face was relaxed other than the smile, jaw not even remotely clenched, and there was something in his eyes, something Cas couldn't quite place, but it sure as Hell wasn't bad. Dean really meant it.

Sure, the version of Dean who had been his husband would've said the same thing, but this was ahead of schedule, as far as Cas was concerned. This Dean wasn't ready to sacrifice his own body like that for Cas to shove something useful aside. Or maybe he was. Maybe he never did think Cas was silly for wanting to be human. Maybe Cas had it wrong and should've believed his husband when he told him Cas deserved to feel things, deserved to be what he wanted to be.

Sam opened the back door of the car, crouching down and frowning at the two of them. "You guys okay?"

Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket. The fob had melted, but the keys were fine. He handed them to Sam, grinning when Sam's eyes widened, but Sam took the keys, wrapping his fingers around them.

"Get us outta here before your girlfriend wanders into the room we just destroyed," Dean said. "We'll tell you what happened on the way home."

"Okay," Sam said.

Cas didn't want to let go of Dean. And later that night when they pulled into a motel for the night, none of them said a word about the fact that Cas climbed into bed with Dean, wrapping his arms around him and falling asleep with his head on Dean's chest.

*

It took them just over twenty-four hours to get back to the bunker. They were all tired after taking turns driving, but all of them had been eager to get back to their own beds. Well, Cas was eager to get back to Dean's bed.

Cas was too exhausted from healing Dean to even think about letting his grace out of that box Dean had mentioned. He needed time to recharge back to even the small amount of power he had. He was able to push it back so much that basically he was human, and he told himself it was to heal, not because he wanted to feel Dean warm and alive in his arms.

The fast food they had eaten on the way home had left a sour taste in Cas' mouth. He'd become so accustomed to Dean's cooking that the heavy grease upset his stomach. He didn't have the energy to use his grace to fix the stomach ache.

Cas had to be careful. When the shit hit the fan with the Mark of Cain, Cas needed to be stronger. Crowley was going to need all the help he could get when Cas would go after him. Cas needed the strength to help dampen the spell Rowena had put on him, giving Crowley enough time to counteract it.

If they ended up losing Crowley because Dean had needed healing after being burned, it was worth it. Crowley had been a help, a big one, but he'd choose Dean over Crowley any day. And maybe The Darkness would sweep over the entire Earth, taking everything supernatural with it before Cas even did anything to Crowley. Either way, Dean was worth it.

Cas didn't think he'd ever forget the expression on Dean's face, the look in his eyes when he was lying on the floor. The rug he was on had been burned right along with him. The hunter who took care of the creature the last time must've taken it by surprise, because nothing had happened to him. He hadn't even lost any hair to the creature.

Dean was still in the shower when Cas climbed into bed. He would have liked taking a shower with Dean, but he knew Dean wasn't ready for that yet. He'd have _his_ Dean soon. He had to believe that.

Cas sniffed the pillow, smiling when he caught Dean's scent. He pushed his face into it, imagining Dean coming into the room after his shower, tired but refreshed like he usually was after washing off all the stink of a hunt and the motel rooms.

Dean would have climbed into bed, nuzzling at Cas until he managed to make Cas laugh. They'd kiss, touch, wrap themselves around each other. And Dean would make little comments about how sexy Cas was, how beautiful his eyes were, how perfect his mouth was, how thick and long his cock was before sucking it down, making Cas writhe on the bed.

Cas would beg, just like Dean would if it was his mouth on Dean's cock. He'd beg for more, rest one hand on Cas' head just so he could mess his hair up even more. He'd poke Cas in the side with his toes, squeeze Cas' head between his thighs, laugh when Cas would frown up at him, then tell him how adorable he looked when he was pouting.

He couldn't decide which scenario he liked better, and when Dean walked into the room, tossing his dirty clothes into the basket, Cas rolled onto his stomach, hiding his erection. He hadn't meant to get hard. He was just lost in that world he wanted to get back to. He wanted it so badly he could taste it. He could almost feel Dean's arms around him, his mouth mapping out every inch of his body.

"So fuckin' tired," Dean grumbled as he flopped onto the bed and got under the covers.

Cas was holding his breath, trying to get his erection to back off, because he never slept on his stomach, and Dean might notice, and then he'd ask why, and Cas would blush. And he loved it. He loved being in a body that was helpless to desires. As much as he was scared Dean would find out about the erection, it was still worth it to feel, to smell, to taste. To be human.

He was tired of pretending. Tired of acting like old Cas for Dean's sake. He missed being with his husband, missed that intimacy that he and Dean had. He missed fucking. He missed the times they didn't fuck. He missed his life.

Dean turned the light off and soon they were sharing the pillow, Cas' erection only halfway there. He wanted to hold Dean, reassure himself that Dean was alive yet again after seeing him burned and dying, but his stupid erection wasn't going away.

Fuck it.

Cas squirmed and rolled and grunted as he changed position. Dean chuckled when Cas grabbed his arm and positioned it where he wanted it, then put his head down on Dean's chest. At the last moment, he gave up all attempts of hiding it and just threw his left leg over Dean's thighs. Dean had to have felt it, but he didn't say anything, didn't pull away, and they just stayed like that.

It felt so good. He could imagine they weren't in the bunker. That they were back at their own home, in their own bed with their own sheets and blankets. The blanket that they'd found at a thrift store, the one Cas had touched, said it was soft, that he'd wanted it because it would keep them warm, and Dean hadn't even questioned the fact that it was covered in orange and brown flowers. The thing was obnoxious, but he'd still taken it up front and paid for it.

Suddenly Cas couldn't breathe. He choked, pushing his face into Dean's chest. He couldn't stop thinking about the good times, the bad times, and the way Dean had looked up at him, the smell of burned flesh in the air, gasping as he tried to make his body breathe, tried to make his lungs work as the life drained from him right there in front of Cas' eyes.

"Hey, hey," Dean said, running his right hand over Cas' arm, his left over Cas' back.

But Cas couldn't stop himself. He was hyperventilating, broken and lost in a world where he was just fucking things up, stuck merely dreaming of a world he might never have, crying on the chest of a man that he was pushing too fast. He was selfish. He wanted it all, and it was probably going to cost him that world he wanted so badly.

Dean had almost died. It would have been his fault. He had almost killed Dean. So what if it was the creature that had burned him? Cas could have stopped it from happening in the first place if he hadn't been so fucking selfish.

"I'm fucking everything up," Cas said into the material of Dean's shirt as he forced himself to breathe somewhat evenly.

"Everything's gonna be okay," Dean said. "We all fuck up. It's the price you pay for being human. We all pay it, but it's worth it."

Cas lifted his head, his face screwed up in confusion. "How can you say that? How can you say it's worth it when-mmmph."

And just like that Dean was kissing him. Cas melted into it, moaning first, then letting out a tiny whimper before realizing exactly what he was doing. He pulled back, eyes wide.

But Dean was smiling. Fucking smiling at him. Cas' head was spinning. He considered it might have been a psychotic break, but even if it was, it was worth it to have Dean smiling at him, in his arms, and fuck, Cas could still feel the sensation of Dean's lips on his own.

"It's too soon," Cas whispered.

"Too soon for what?" Dean asked.

"You're going to freak out," Cas said, realizing how ridiculous it was even as he said the words.

"Do I look like I'm freaking out?" Dean asked, smirking.

And no. Dean didn't look like he was freaking out. He looked just as relaxed and happy as he'd been the first time they'd had their first kiss. And if that wasn't a mindfuck, Cas didn't know what was.

"No," Cas said, almost petulantly.

"I was trying to let you do this at your own pace," Dean said, letting out a chuckle, "but I couldn't take it anymore. You looked so upset."

"Huh?" Cas said, tilting his head to the side a bit.

"You think I didn't notice?" Dean asked, raising both eyebrows in surprise. "You thought I didn't see any difference between the you that walked into that witch's house and the guy who walked out?"

Cas' jaw dropped, and he just stared at Dean, unsure of what to do, what to say. If this was a spell, some sort of wonderful dream he'd stepped into, he really hoped someone didn't wake him. Been there, done that, didn't like the jarring time shift.

Dean snorted. "Dude, I know you better than that."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Cas finally asked.

"You seemed freaked out by the whole thing," Dean said. "I was giving you time to work your way through whatever it was you were going through."

"But...," Cas started, but he really didn't have anything else to say.

"I went back and got the book," Dean said with a sheepish look on his face. "We were so worried about you that we forgot to burn her shit, so I went back, the book was sitting there where we'd left it, so I snagged it and brought it back here."

"You read it?" Cas asked, and he hadn't meant to sound so shocked. It was pretty insulting. But he was fucking surprised.

"I'm not just a pretty face, you know," Dean said, then winked.

Cas let out a laugh that sounded more like a honk. "You read it," he said, more to himself than Dean.

"I don't know the details," Dean said, "but whatever happened in the time you were stuck in your own head really changed you. From what I read in that book, after a fuck-load of research and translating, I got the impression it was a potential future."

Cas' stomach clenched. "Potential?" he asked. "That's all it was?"

"Well, potential because if you did things differently, it might change small details," Dean said, shrugging.

Dean knew more of the spell than he and Sam did. He'd translated more than Sam had been able to in the few pages he'd looked at quickly.

"You were so different around me after we got back from the house," Dean said. "I figured our relationship changed somehow in that headtrip she put you on. You looked at me differently."

"I thought I was...," Cas said, then chuckled at himself. "I suck at hiding things from you."

Dean grinned. "Yeah, you do."

"I'm sorry," Cas said.

"I understand why you did it," Dean said. "I would've freaked out too. I don't even know how long you were stuck in there, but it had to have been a shock. Like getting thrown back in time."

"Nine years," Cas whispered.

"Fuck," Dean said, letting out a long breath as if a weight had been placed on his chest. "Well, you can stop pretending around me, okay?"

"Okay," Cas said, unsure if that meant he could let his guard down completely or just forgo hiding the fact that he'd lived years inside his head.

"I'm assuming you don't want to tell me about some of the things that happened because you're scared of changing the future," Dean said. "But if there are things you _can_ tell me, I'd like to hear them."

Cas sighed. "Even small things I've done changed the outcome. We're still heading in the same direction, it seems, but I don't know if I've ruined that future. If it even was a future."

"I've still got the book if you wanna read it," Dean said. "I think it'll put your mind at ease."

"Why?" Cas asked, a flutter of hope in his stomach.

"Because the witch combined three spells and a curse," Dean said. "She had notes in the margins and in her notebook. It was meant for you. She tailored the whole thing just for you."

"I don't understand," Cas said, frowning.

"I think she was tired," Dean said, shaking his head. "She'd been practicing magic for years, had been hurt a number of times by different creatures, a few humans, and her life wasn't really all that great. If I would've known, I wouldn't have killed her because she meant no harm. She'd been tracking us. Figured out what you were and that we're all hunters. That world you've got stuck in your head? It's a future she figured out could happen if she showed it to you and only you. I don't know exactly what she saw, but she'd had visions for years and didn't really describe much of it. She knew it would mean a better life for her daughter and granddaughter, so she lured us there and let you live out the next few years in the hopes you'd get everybody there."

Cas rested his chin on Dean's chest. "I wasn't sure what happened. Sam suggested it was the real future because of her psychic abilities, but he didn't know the spells and he didn't mention the notebook."

"You told Sam but not me!" Dean said, feigning shock as he poked Cas in the side.

Cas let out a chuckle, but sobered quickly. "You're okay with this?" he asked, and _his_ Dean would've known he was asking about everything that it could possibly encompass. The world, the universe, and everything in it. He knew this Dean might not get that.

"I am," Dean said confidently. "I'll admit I was a little thrown when I first put everything together, and even then, I wasn't sure I had it right, that maybe I was picking up on signs that weren't even really there, but..."

"They were there," Cas hurried to cut him off. "I just didn't want to rush things."

Dean smiled. "You didn't. You gave me time to work things out for myself."

"And it's killing you that I'm not telling you everything, isn't it," he said instead of asked, a sly grin on his face.

Dean groaned. "It is. I know you're scared you'll fuck things up if you tell, but the suspense is killin' me."

Cas smiled. This Dean was more and more like _his_ Dean than he ever had been before, and it was calming his nerves. That future he'd seen might be within reach after all.

"We were happy?" Dean asked, a bit of fear in his eyes.

Cas understood. The Winchesters and anyone associated with them had been knocked on their asses so many times that hope was something looked at cautiously, like it might bite if anyone became too complacent.

"Life wasn't a fantasy," Cas said. "Things still went wrong, people still got sick and died, but overall I'd say yes, we were happy."

"Do I still look hot a decade from now?" Dean asked, grinning.

Cas chuckled. "Even more so," he said, and he really meant it.

"You've already had a first time with me," Dean said, tone of voice almost wistful.

"A lot of first times," Cas said, suddenly worrying that Dean would feel as if he'd been cheated out of experiencing Cas' first times.

"Anything we hadn't done yet?" Dean asked, upper lip twitching just a little.

Cas looked Dean in the eye, saw that there was more of a twinkle of mischief than hurt or concern, so Cas grinned. "You wanted to go to a bed and breakfast, but we'd never gotten around to it."

"Shit, _I_ wanted to stay in one of those places?" he asked, wincing. "Ugh, those places are so over the top and cheesy. No way I would've wanted to go there!"

Cas could tell he was lying. Dean loved over the top and cheesy. Cas shrugged. "I guess I'll have to wait nine years to go to one then."

"Eh, maybe you'll wear me down faster than that this time," Dean said, reaching up and running a finger under Cas' chin. He looked Cas in the eye. "I know this has to be hard for you. If there's anything I can do, just say so."

Cas wanted to kiss. He wanted to hold. He wanted to fuck. He wanted a ring around Dean's finger. He wanted his husband. "Can I just sleep like this?" he asked, fingertips lightly touching Dean's chest as he brushed his chin against the material of Dean's shirt. "Will you let me?"

Dean smiled. "I can do that."

Cas returned the smile, chancing a quick kiss to Dean's chest before he snuggled in. As they both drifted off, Cas hoped being with Dean, being this close would keep the nightmares away. He didn't want to relive those few minutes in the library where Dean almost died. He wanted to put that as far away from them as possible

He didn't have to worry. He slept like a log.

*

"Dean," Cas moaned, thoroughly enjoying his dream.

Dean was shoving him against a wall, and they were so turned on that they didn't even bother to shed any clothes. They were just rutting against one another, Dean holding his hips tightly enough to bruise, Cas doing the same to Dean's shoulders.

"More," Cas begged. He was close. So close. But Dean smiled at him and pulled away, suddenly gone. Cas gasped as he woke up, arms wrapped around a very real and very awake Dean.

"Well, don't stop on my account," Dean said, grinning at him.

Cas blushed so hard he thought he might pass out. They were face to face, Cas' left leg thrown over Dean's hip, and apparently he'd been humping the shit out of Dean, his right arm stuck under Dean's neck and his left wrapped around Dean's torso. Cas was still panting, dick so hard it hurt.

"Sorry," Cas said as started to pull away.

"Hey, I'm serious," Dean said, his right arm over top of Cas' left and holding tight, hand splayed over Cas' back. "You were having a good time and it sounded really fuckin' hot."

"Fuck," Cas hissed, his hips jerking forward. It had been so long since Dean had looked at him like that, since he'd held him like that.

"Oh, shit," Dean breathed. "You sound even hotter when you swear."

Cas smiled, not really having meant to use something he knew turned Dean on, but happy about the results nonetheless. He pulled Dean closer by wrapping his leg more tightly around Dean, and he felt Dean's erection.

"Morning sex is your favorite," Cas said, voice breathy and high from arousal.

"Fuck, yeah," Dean said, matching Cas' movements, grinding against him. "Yours?"

"Surprise sex," Cas said.

Dean let out a groan, closing his eyes as he leaned in and rested his forehead against Cas'. Cas let the fingers of his left hand wander toward Dean's ass, but stopped just before he reached the elastic of Dean's sleep pants.

"Oh, fuck!" Dean gasped, shivering against Cas as Cas used his secret weapon. "How'd you know I like-oh. Yeah. Of course you know I like it when you brush your fingers over the small of my back."

Cas chuckled as he moved his head enough to suck kisses into Dean's neck. "Missed you," Cas whispered.

"Fuck, Cas!" Dean said, bucking against him as he came, fingers digging into Cas' back as he kept thrusting, panting, whimpering.

"Missed you so much, Dean," Cas said, pushing Dean over halfway onto his back and rutting against him just the way he wanted to. He knew Dean didn't get too sensitive after coming, and in fact he'd get a kick out of the way Cas was desperately trying to finish.

"So fuckin' hot," Dean whispered, words slurred as he wrapped his hands around the sides of Cas' face and pulled him up. "Wanna see what you look like when you come."

And that was it. Cas was gone. Thrusting hard against Dean, mouth open as he made a gurgling noise that Dean insisted time after time was really sexy even though Cas doubted anybody but Dean would think so.

Dean smiled up at him, still holding his face. "I could get used to seeing that," he said.

Cas let out a huff of laughter. Dean had said those words years ago when they'd first started fucking. Cas loved it even more the second time.

"But now we're both going to stick to our pants," Dean said, not so much concerned as fishing for something.

Cas knew him all too well to pass up the chance. "I suppose we need a shower."

Dean chuckled. "Sounds like a good idea," he said then butted his forehead against Cas' like a cat would before he let go of Cas and rolled out of bed.

Cas watched him move, wondering if it was possible for his own chest to explode with happiness. The first time around, Dean had opened himself up quickly to Cas once they'd gotten intimate, but Cas had figured it was just because Dean didn't have as many responsibilities in life, he wasn't as tense, but this Dean was already head-butting him, something Cas had been very confused about the first time Dean had done it. He'd even asked Sam about it.

"C'mon," Dean said, grabbing a towel and heading for the door. "I'm not waiting around for you."

Sam had laughed at Cas' bewildered expression, but then had explained just how tactile Dean could be. Sure, the Winchesters were tactile anyway, but Sam had seen Dean with other lovers in casual settings, and he knew Dean used even more lingering touches and affectionate gestures.

"I'm coming," Cas said as he rolled out of bed.

It was something he loved about Dean. Of course he loved it because it was part of Dean's personality, but he also loved it because the casually intimate touches made him feel owned, loved, and even when they were in public it seemed as if Dean's mind never strayed because those touches just kept coming. It was almost as if Dean couldn't get enough of Cas, and that hadn't faded over the years.

Cas didn't have a towel in Dean's room, so he pulled open the drawer in Dean's nightstand, snagged the bottle of lube, then went to his own room and grabbed his towel before heading to the showers.

Dean was already naked and adjusting the temperature, so Cas walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling at is back. Dean laughed as he took the bottle of lube from Cas' left hand.

"Somebody's assuming they're gonna get some," Dean said.

Cas knew Dean was teasing, but that there was also a bit of a question in his words. This Dean had no idea what they did together.

Dean turned in Cas' arms, smiling at him. "We had lots of sex, didn't we," he said instead of asked.

Cas chuckled. "Those first few months we didn't make it out of our bedroom very much."

"Months?" Dean asked, eyes wide.

"You felt the need to teach me everything I'd never done before," Cas said.

"You'd never... You've never been with anybody else?" Dean asked, an odd expression on his face.

Cas knew what it meant. He hadn't understood it the first time around, how a human could feel the weight of responsibility being the only one, the first one, but this time around he felt it himself, holding Dean, who hadn't been fucked by a man since before Hell.

"As an angel, I didn't really care. Once I pushed my grace back and realized how good sensations could feel, I wanted a lot of it," he said. He wasn't lying. Not really. Dean didn't need to know his grace wasn't going to be around much longer.

"So, uhm, Daphne?" he asked.

"She could tell I wasn't comfortable with it," Cas said. "She loved me anyway and said she was completely fine with a marriage where sex wasn't an option."

"Oh," Dean said, obviously surprised. "So why me?"

"Once I pushed my grace back," Cas said, voice soft as he leaned in closer and placed a gentle kiss on Dean's jawline, "I realized the attraction I felt to you was more than our bond, more than camaraderie, more than love. I didn't feel the same for Sam even though I love him and I'd do anything for him."

"Oh," Dean whispered.

"You make me hard," Cas said, looking Dean in the eye.

Dean opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Well, other than a really adorable squeak that Cas knew Dean would deny ever came out of him. Cas let his hands trail down Dean's back, fingertips brushing over the sensitive skin just above Dean's crack. He smiled as Dean shivered.

"I prefer a lot of lube," Cas said, grinning.

"Cas, I haven't...," Dean said, shaking his head a bit, eyes a little wounded.

"And I like it when you prepare me," Cas said, letting Dean off the hook.

"Fuck, Cas," Dean breathed, his cock hard between them.

"Your first time isn't going to be in the shower," Cas said, still teasing that sensitive skin. "I'm going to spread you out on the bed, take my time opening you up with my tongue and fingers, and then I'm going to make sure you're begging before I fuck you."

"Cas," Dean said, reaching up and grabbing the sides of Cas' head, bottle of lube awkwardly behind Cas' ear as Dean kissed him, turning them both around until Cas' back was to the shower wall, the water falling down over Dean's head and back, but missing Cas completely.

Dean had done this before. He'd fucked guys since Hell, and even if he hadn't, Cas was ready. He wanted Dean inside him. Cas took the bottle from Dean's fingers as he shoved his tongue into Dean's mouth, giving just as good as he got. He took hold of Dean's right wrist and pulled it down between them, not bothering to stop the kiss as he squirted what was most likely way too much lube into Dean's palm before guiding Dean's hand to his ass.

Dean pushed between Cas' ass cheeks, his middle finger finding Cas' hole. "I'm not gonna last long even though we just came in bed. No judging."

Cas chuckled. "The first time you sucked me off, I came before you were able to go all the way down."

"Fuck," Dean gasped as he circled Cas' hole, the lube making everything sloppy.

"I couldn't figure out why you choked if you'd done it before," Cas said. "You didn't tell me. You just said it was because you were so excited."

"Did I ever tell you?" Dean asked as he pushed his middle finger into Cas.

Cas moaned, spreading his legs a little. "Yes, but only after we'd watched some porn together and I asked why the plumber kept telling the other guy he was coming long before he actually came. That was about six months after we'd started fucking. I think you liked that I didn't know to warn you."

"So I choked myself every time?" Dean asked, fucking Cas hole slowly with his finger.

"No," Cas said. "I'm very vocal, and you enjoyed learning every noise I made and what it meant."

Dean pushed a second finger in, his left hand wrapping around Cas' cock as he kissed Cas' neck and shoulder. "I suppose you know I love it when you're vocal in bed."

Cas couldn't quite tell if Dean was happy about that or tossing it out there when it really was something that upset him. "Does that bother you? Does it bother you that I've lived years with you, done all those things with you?"

Dean's fingers slowed just a bit inside his hole as he pulled back to look Cas in the eye. "I'm not gonna lie. There's a part of me that's jealous. I wish I could have all those memories. I wish I could've been there for the first time you experienced so many things. But there's a bigger part of me that's just happy to have you at all. It was me you were with, me you want so much it hurts, and whatever it is we have in the future was good enough that you were freaked out over the thought of having fucked that up."

"I get to see your first times twice," Cas said with a lopsided grin.

To anyone else, it would've been hurtful, teasing, but Cas knew Dean. He loved pleasing his partners, and it always meant more to him when he was able to do something for someone else, to watch them experience what he'd done for them. Cas knew Dean would get a kick out of the fact that Cas was excited over seeing all of Dean's firsts again.

Dean chuckled. "I've done a lot of shit," he said, teasing. "I don't have many firsts left."

"Yeah, you do," Cas said confidently. "You have all of them because they'll be with me."

Dean's smile made the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle. "I love it when you're cocky and sure of yourself."

"I know," Cas said, squeezing around Dean's fingers to remind him of what they were doing. "Now fuck me."

And then Dean was turning him around, giving his cock a few more tugs before wrapping his right arm around Cas' middle and slowly pushing his own cock into Cas' hole with his left hand.

"Dean!" Cas gasped, reaching back to pull Dean closer when Dean froze with worry. "No. More!" 

Dean chuckled, a low sound that was dirty and fucking hot. When he'd finally pushed all the way in, Dean held him tightly, both arms wrapped around him, but he didn't move.

"Oh, fuck, Cas!" Dean hissed as Cas squeezed around his cock. "Stop or this is gonna be over embarrassingly fast."

Cas didn't stop. "Are you forgetting you've already got me? That I've seen you at your worst _and_ your best, and I'm still here? Premature ejaculation isn't going to stop me."

Dean's breathing stuttered as he gave up and just started fucking Cas, his forehead resting against Cas' shoulder as his right hand wrapped around Cas' cock, stroking him fast and without any finesse, without doing any of the things Cas' husband knew Cas liked. But it was good, it was Dean, and Cas wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, Cas," Dean panted in his ear. "You gonna come?"

"Yeah," Cas said, but he wasn't nearly as close as Dean. Coming with Dean less than a half hour ago had taken the urgency out of everything, but he didn't care. He had Dean.

"Cas, oh f-fuck, Cas!" Dean hissed as he came, not so much fucking into Cas anymore as he was rolling.

Cas loved it. Dean was such a sensual lover, and even though Cas had never experienced anything else himself, he'd seen enough porn to know that the way Dean squirmed and rolled his hips and held him even tighter was all Dean.

"C'mere," Dean said, pulling out and dropping to his knees.

Cas turned around, groaning when Dean pushed him against the wall and sucked his cock, hands holding Cas in place as Cas' thighs shook and his fingers slid over the tiles. It didn't take long, and soon Cas was coming down Dean's throat.

Dean choked hard. It was like the first time all over again. Eyes watering, cheeks pink, and some of Cas' come leaking out of the corners of his mouth as he tried to stop himself, tried to keep his gag reflex under control.

Cas wiped the stray tears from Dean's cheeks before pulling him up and kissing him, licking into his mouth and tasting himself there. When Cas finally pulled back, smiling at Dean, Dean chuckled.

"You enjoyed that," Dean accused, voice hoarse.

"Yes. Both times," Cas said.

Dean snorted, shaking his head. "It's a good thing you're adorable."

"Oh, c'mon!" Sam yelled from the doorway. "You know that shit gets stuck in the drains, right, guys? Not in the showers!" he grumbled as he walked away.

Cas laughed as Dean's cheeks flushed. "Sam knows," Cas said with a grin.

"I gathered that," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"And the water's still warm," Cas said, reaching for the soap. "You got me dirty again, so it's only fair you clean me up."

Dean chuckled. "Yes, sir," he said as he took the soap.

*

Cas had done it to himself. Really. He'd tried to save Sam and Dean months of heartache. He'd tried to save Kevin. But what he hadn't realized was just how much all of that had affected Dean, how it had pushed him into getting the Mark and in the end saving the world. He forgot how it had been a mountain of shit that had Dean searching for anything that would fix something, anything that would help.

And Cas had fixed those fucked-up things, changing the course of their lives, and he knew he had to convince Dean to take that huge risk once more. He'd have to do it without the pain that had pushed Dean the first time around.

Cas knew Dean. Knew him too well. But he didn't know how to do it without hurting him. He ran his fingers through Dean's hair as the man slept beside him, and all he could think about was just how much Dean had been hurting, how bad things had gotten if Dean had been willing to risk it all.

He was still recovering from healing Dean, so he couldn't use his grace to force Dean into taking on the Mark and releasing the Darkness. But even if he could force Dean, he wouldn't. He respected Dean too much, loved him too much.

Cas crawled out of bed carefully. Dean was a light sleeper, but something about his comfort level around Cas usually allowed Cas some leeway, and it proved true again as he padded out into the hallway, Dean still fast asleep.

"Sam?" Cas said, standing in Sam's doorway.

"Yeah?" Sam said, looking up from his book as he lay in bed, reading by the light of his bedside lamp.

"Mind if I ask for some advice?" Cas asked.

Sam set the book down on the nightstand, smiling. "C'mon in," he said, patting the spot next to him.

Cas climbed onto the bed and rested back against the wall as Sam sat up and mirrored his position, turned slightly toward each other.

"I need to get Dean to do something," Cas said, wincing.

"Something...?" Sam drawled. "I need a little more info."

Cas tried to figure out how to say it without telling any of the details that might change how Sam behaved in the future. "Something that he needs to do so we can get to that place we all want to be."

"Ah, okay," Sam said nodding. "Well, can you tell either of us what he needs to do?"

"Yes," Cas said. "I just can't tell you why."

"So what's the problem?" Sam asked, shrugging.

"It's not the most attractive option," Cas said with a slight grimace.

Sam frowned. "But it won't hurt him, right?"

Cas winced, remembering how Dean had died at Metatron’s hand the first time around. Since Sam hadn’t been possessed by Gadreel and Kevin hadn’t died, he was certain that particular outcome had been averted, but Dean still had to get the Mark of Cain, and Cas knew what it would do to him. “Not physically, no. But it won’t be pleasant for him, or us, for that matter.”

Sam thought about that. “But it’s necessary?”

That was one thing Cas wasn’t conflicted about. “Yes.”

“What is it?” Sam asked, frowning.

“I shouldn’t tell you before I tell Dean,” Cas said.

"Okay,” Sam said, nodding in understanding. “So just tell him what he needs to do."

"Just tell him?" Cas asked, brow furrowing.

Sam smiled. "Yeah. He knows you’ve seen what it leads to, and we all want to get there, so just tell him. I think you might be surprised."

"Just...," Cas said, still really fucking unsure of himself.

"Go now," Sam said, patting Cas' leg. "Wake him up, tell him what he has to do, and tell him you can't say why. Discuss it if you have to, and then you guys can fill me in in the morning."

"Tell him,” Cas said, as though contemplating the very notion. “That’s your advice?” He didn’t sound upset, just surprised.

"Yeah," Sam said, nodding as he pushed at him. "Go on. Tell him."

Cas gaped at him for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. But if you hear yelling, you'll know your advice didn't work."

Sam chuckled. "Hey, you're the one who said I give great advice."

Cas slid off the bed. "You're not going to forget that, are you?"

Sam grinned. "Nope."

Cas sighed as he walked out of the room and down the hallway. This was it. He needed to fix the things he'd set off course. He gathered his courage as he walked up to Dean's bed and reached out and gave Dean's arm a little shake.

"Mmm, what's wrong?" Dean asked, opening his eyes and turning onto his back to he could look up at Cas.

"I need you to do something," Cas said.

"Okay," Dean said.

"I need you to take on the Mark of Cain to fight Abaddon," Cas said bluntly.

Dean frowned. “You mean the wrestler? Kane?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “No. Cain, as in Cain and Abel.”

Dean’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh.”

“He can only give it to someone who’s worthy and you are,” Cas hurried to explain. “I can’t tell you why or how I know that, but..."

“But it needs to happen for things to turn out like they were in your future,” Dean surmised when Cas’ words trailed off.

Cas looked miserable. “Yes,” he said quietly.

Dean grabbed Cas' hand and yanked him down onto the bed with him, spooning up behind him and snuggling. "Okay."

"Okay, what?" Cas said, confused.

"If you say I need to get the Mark of Cain, I’ll get the Mark of Cain," Dean said.

"Wait, that's it? You're just going to do it?" Cas asked.

"I trust you," Dean said, yawning.

"Oh, uhm, okay," Cas said, the horrible knot in his stomach finally relaxing.

Dean kissed his neck. "We'll track Cain down tomorrow and I'll talk to him."

"Okay," Cas said.

He listened as Dean drifted off to sleep again. The Mark meant the end of this Dean. The end of a Dean anyone else recognized for a while. Cas knew he had to do it. He had to let the influence of the Mark take over. He had no choice if he wanted that future for everyone, and he wanted it so badly he could taste it.

He could smell the barbecues where Dean would grill steaks and corn on the cob and potatoes. He could hear the laughter of Sam's children as they ran around the backyard while Sam chased them. He could feel the warmth of his husband holding him in their bed, the blankets wrapped around them. He could see them happy, a family that had survived it all, living out the life none of them ever thought they'd have.

If he could just keep all that close to his heart, he might survive losing Dean again for a while.

*

"So I've been thinking," Dean announced as he walked into the library, scratching his belly, hand up underneath his shirts.

Cas and Sam looked up from the witch's notebook and spellbook respectively, Sam pushing the spellbook away and rubbing his eyes.

"This whole secrecy thing sucks," Dean said, walking up to the end of the table and leaning on it, palms down on the surface. "What's happened to us every time we've gone off and done shit on our own?"

Sam turned to Cas, shrugging and an expression on his face that said 'I've got nothing.'

"We fuck up," Dean said bluntly.

"Well, I've done some cool shit on my own," Sam said, frowning.

Cas nodded. "Me too. Though I've also made mistakes."

"Okay, okay," Dean said, straightening up before he pulled out a chair and flopped down on it. He gave Cas' chair leg a little tap with the toe of his boot. "But what happens when we all work together to face down evil shit?"

"We get shit done," Sam said, ending the sentence almost as if it was a question.

"Yahtzee," Dean said, pointing at Sam. "So you," he said, turning to look at Cas again, "are gonna spill. Every dirty secret, everything you think is gonna fuck everything up, and everything we did wrong in the world the witch showed you so we can do this right. Maybe we can avoid some of the bad shit and possibly even move the timeline up some."

"From what I've read," Cas said, "there was a reason she wanted me to see the future. Otherwise she would've used the spells on either of you."

"Did you find any notes from her saying why she chose only you?" Dean asked.

"No," Cas admitted, nervously playing with the bottom edge of the notebook.

"C'mon, Cas," Dean said, lowering his voice and tapping the leg of Cas' chair again with his boot. "Maybe she needed you to be able to work the spells, and that's why she chose you. Maybe she thought you'd tell us what happened. Maybe it doesn't have to be a secret."

Sam sighed as he leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. "The zombie bird hunt. We fucked up because we did things differently."

"I didn't mean for that to happen," Cas said, wincing.

"I know," Sam said, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. "I'm not saying this to rake you over the coals. I'm saying this because now we know the outcome of at least one way of doing things. Think about everything we've got in front of us and see if you can pick out any of them that would run more smoothly if we did things just a little differently."

Cas glanced at the tumbler on the table, only one third full of Sam's shake. He tried to look away quickly, but Dean caught on. Of course he did. And Cas probably allowed something to show on his face too.

"You didn't give that to Sam the last time," Dean said, nodding his head toward the shake.

Cas looked down at the notebook. "No."

"What happened?" Sam asked. "You said I was alive, so what happened?"

"It didn't turn out well," Cas said. "You recovered, but bad things happened."

"Okay, stop," Dean said, voice loud enough that Cas flinched. "If you're trying to save our feelings or you're hiding things because you think we'll do them over again, just stop. The more we know, the more we can work with this."

"Even if it hurts?" Cas asked, voice almost a whisper.

Dean nodded. "Rip it off like a band-aid. You changed something, and it turned out better this time around. If you come clean, maybe we can do that with everything we fucked up the first time around."

Cas turned to Sam. "Things were very different. There were reasons for the decisions we made."

Sam blinked at him a moment. "Did I fuck something up?" he asked, sitting up straighter in his seat.

"No," Cas said.

"Dude," Dean said, "spit it out."

"Can't we start with something else first?" Cas asked, trying to force a smile.

"What do we need to tell you?" Sam asked. "What can we say that would make you believe we need the information?"

"It's not that I think you don't need it," Cas said. "And I understand why you both think this is a good idea. But where we are now isn't where the three of us were in that other world. The Trials took a lot out of you. You were dying," he said as he looked at Sam, then he turned to Dean, "and you were desperate to save him."

"Desperate," Dean repeated. "Meaning I did something that fucked up our relationship," he said, nodding his head toward Sam.

"What?" Sam said, frowning. "Why would your mind automatically jump to that conclusion?"

Dean looked at Sam, then at Cas. "Because that's probably the one thing Cas wouldn't want to tell us." He watched Cas swallow nervously. "Isn't that right Cas?"

"Okay, Cas," Sam said, getting his attention, "I need you to listen to me. If you think whatever you have to say is going to tear us apart or make things worse, I don't blame you. But we have a goal that we didn't have before. The look in your eyes says there's a future out there that all of us really want. We didn't have that hope before. We were just surviving. If Dean did something to me in that other world that hurt me, then we'll deal with it, but you've gotta remember that the Dean sitting here right now didn't do it. I don't know what happened, but maybe he did the only thing he could think of. The three of us have done a lot of things out of desperation. Giving us a leg up on what's coming _has_ to be the priority."

"And if he's _that_ pissed at me," Dean said, smirking, "I'll let him kick my ass."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Like you'd have to _let_ me."

Cas huffed out a laugh, but quickly sobered again when he remembered what he was about to tell them. And he was _going_ to do it. His stomach was clenching and every human instinct was warring inside him, screaming at him to stop, that this wasn't the answer.

"Like I said, you were dying," Cas said, looking at Sam. "And an angel offered to heal you if Dean let them possess you."

Sam flinched as he looked first at Dean, then down at the spellbook in front of him. It took him a moment, but finally he nodded. "Okay. You changed that. It didn't happen. We're doing things right this time around," he said, nostrils flaring just a bit.

The smile on Sam's face was forced, but Cas could tell Sam was processing, not furious. A quick look at Dean said he was doing the same thing.

In that moment Cas realized they were right. They were a team. They'd taken on evil together before and won. Fighting against that hadn't done any of them any good. Cas could prepare them, and they could fight together.

"I guess I have a lot to tell you, then," Cas said.

*

Epilogue

Eight Months Later

 

"C'mere," Dean panted as he wrapped his right arm around a naked Cas and pulled him down onto the bed, flat on his back.

Cas chuckled, then moaned as an equally naked Dean climbed onto him, straddling his torso and sinking down on Cas' cock.

"And that's called topping from the bottom," Dean said, smirking.

Cas reached up and pulled Dean down by the neck so he could kiss him, his other hand finding Dean's cock between them. He rubbed his thumb over Dean's slit, grunting into the kiss as Dean squeezed around him.

When Dean pulled away from the kiss, Cas was panting right along with Dean. Cas took Dean's left hand in his and held it up, unable to wipe the smile off his face as he looked at the ring around Dean's finger. His ring.

Familiar guitar riffs filled the room, much too loud and annoying given how close Cas was to coming. Dean sighed, glancing in the direction of the phone.

"Don't answer it!" Cas said, wrapping his hands around Dean's middle, as if that would stop him. "It's probably Becca making sure you didn't forget about Charlie's birthday party."

Dean snorted. "How can I forget? Charlie's texted me every morning for the last week."

The phone stopped ringing, and Cas pulled on Dean's middle, trying to get him to move again. It wasn't his first time being inside Dean, in this world or the other one he'd lived in. It just felt good, and Cas didn't want Dean to stop.

"Well, did you get her the present she asked for yet?" Cas asked, trying to fuck up into Dean, though it was hard to move when Dean was sitting on him.

Dean smirked, squeezing around Cas' cock again and chuckling when Cas hissed through clenched teeth. "I got it for her way before she asked me for it in the first place."

"Huh?" Cas said, blinking up at Dean.

Dean pinched Cas' left nipple. "Pay attention."

Cas whined. "I can't. You've teased me all afternoon."

"You say that like I didn't blow you before dinner," Dean said, chuckling.

Cas grinned as he remembered Dean blowing him in the kitchen while the noodles were boiling on the stove. They ate soggy noodles, but neither of them cared.

"So who else is coming?" Dean asked.

Cas let out a sigh, giving up on trying to get off, his cock hard and in Dean's ass, but it didn't seem as though he was going to get to come any time soon.

"I can't remember her new girlfriend's name," Cas said, "but she's coming too. And I think Kevin and his mother will be able to make it."

Dean leaned down and kissed the end of Cas' nose. "And why will they all be able to come to the party?"

Cas brow furrowed. "Because Becca can be persuasive?" he said, confused.

Dean kissed his way over Cas' cheek, down to his jawline, nibbling his way down Cas' neck, then back up to his left ear. "Because my husband saved the world," he whispered.

Cas shivered as Dean started to fuck himself on Cas' cock again. It was slow, but at least Dean was moving. "Everyone else helped," Cas said.

"If you don't admit that my husband saved the world," Dean said, lifting almost completely off Cas' cock and sinking back down so slowly that his thighs shook, "then I'm gonna just keep up this pace because it feels so fuckin' good."

Cas cupped Dean's face with his hands and looked him in the eye. "I saved the world. More than once. And now I'd like to fuck my husband on our honeymoon."

"I wasn't done yet," Dean said, smirking. "Now I want you to tell me the story of how you saved the world."

"Dean!" Cas complained, almost pouting.

"C'mon," Dean said. "You know I love the story. And if you do that for me, I'll make sure you come when you get to the good part. My favorite part of the story."

"What part is that?" Cas asked, a little curious, but mostly horny.

Dean shrugged. "If you don't know already, then you'll find out when you get to it. So hurry up."

"I don't think I like topping from the bottom," Cas grumbled.

"Please?" Dean begged, flashing that adorably charming smile.

Cas couldn't resist. He never could. "Fine. I told you and Sam about everything, even the parts that were ah-Dean! The parts that were hard and made Sam do that thing with his nostrils."

Dean chuckled, pinching Cas' left nipple again. "Go on."

"We convinced Cain to help us kill Abaddon after we told him some of our plans, and because he helped, you didn't need to get the Mark yourself. And then we fixed Charlie and let her eat a few gallons of ice cream and stay in the bunker while she cried about breaking up with Dorothy." Cas said, wincing as he tried to concentrate while Dean rode him faster. "Charlie and Crowley helped us capture Rowena, then they worked together to figure out how to remove the Mark from Cain."

"Keep going," Dean said, arching his back as he threaded his fingers between Cas' and held his hands down on the bed to either side of Cas' head.

"B-because I told you guys what was gonna happen," Cas said, then let out a moan, "uhm, we... Mmm, yeah! We were able to release The Darkness without the Mark ever being given to you at all."

"And then?" Dean asked, voice a little more breathy than before.

"Everything supernatural in the w-oh! Dean, yeah! Fuck. The, uhm... Everything supernatural in the world got sucked up and taken away by The Darkness," Cas said, right on the verge of begging. That _had_ to be the best part of the story. Dean would probably let him come.

"Then what?" Dean asked.

"That's the story!" Cas said, eyes wide as he tried to thrust up into Dean.

"Keep going," Dean said. "You didn't get to my favorite part yet."

Cas whimpered. "We moved here and helped Sam get together with Becca. Charlie moved into those condos about fifteen minutes from here. Becca moved in with Sam about three months ago, and they're already acting like a married couple," blurting the words out quickly.

"Uh-huh."

"More?" Cas asked, more of a whine than anything else.

"Yup," Dean said, moving faster and leaning down so he could lick at Cas' nipples.

"Then I m-married my husband and took him on a-fuck!" Cas hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to remember what he'd been saying. "On-ah! O-our honeymoon in our own home," Cas said, his upstairs brain barely functioning.

Dean lifted his head and his eyes met Cas'. "That's my favorite part," he said, then licked his way into Cas' mouth, riding him hard as they both wrapped their arms around each other.

Cas shifted and moved as much as he could, but Dean was doing most of the work, the head of the bed knocking into the wall with the force of his movements even though they'd pulled the bed away from the wall that morning.

"Love you, Cas," Dean said, lips moving against Cas'.

"Love you, D-oomph," Cas said, Dean's tongue pushing into his mouth.

Cas held on tightly, and as he came, he cried out into Dean's mouth, squirming beneath Dean, heels digging into the blankets as he came inside his husband for the first time all over again.

Dean kept going, sitting up and wrapping his right hand around his own cock, stroking himself as he continued riding Cas. Cas grinned, then opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, waiting to see if Dean got the hint.

"Oh, fuck yeah!" Dean growled as he pulled off of Cas' cock and scooted up until he was straddling Cas' lower chest, stroking his cock as he held the tip to Cas' tongue.

Cas waited, eyes locked with Dean's as Dean winced and gasped, then came, painting Cas' tongue.

"Fuck, Cas, that's so fuckin' hot," Dean hissed, hips jerking.

When the last of his load had landed on Cas' tongue, some of it on his nose and cheeks, Dean scooted back and rolled off of Cas, spreading out beside him. Cas kissed him again, Dean's come still in his mouth. It was lazy and unhurried now that they'd both come, just enjoying the afterglow and each other's company as they kissed.

Once they ran out of the energy to even kiss, they relaxed against the bed, arms and legs either wrapped around each other or draped across each other.

"This one's even better," Cas said, looking Dean in the eye. "I'm glad I listened to you and Sam. I don't regret the choices we made, and now that I'm here, I'd never trade this world for that other one."

Dean smiled. "After all the shit we've been through we deserve to be happy. Never thought we would be, but I'm definitely not complaining."

"You _do_ realize you're still going to have to learn yoga, right?" Cas asked as their eyelids drooped.

"Sure, Cas," Dean said, yawning.

"That's not a yes," Cas said, pinching Dean's arm.

"You're right," Dean said, snuggling closer.

Cas grinned. "I didn't tell you everything when we discussed the future back then."

Dean frowned at him. "Huh? What did you leave out?"

"How often I get laid when you see me doing yoga," Cas said. "Especially when I do it in the nude."

Dean blinked at him for a moment, then let out a huff of laughter. "Fine, I'll learn yoga."

Cas smiled. "We'll start tomorrow morning."

end.


End file.
